


Breaking Point

by Kaz_MJ



Series: Positive and Negative [6]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insanity, Kidnapping, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Sick Character, Sleep Deprivation, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:14:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 72,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22679302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaz_MJ/pseuds/Kaz_MJ
Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. Everyone can be broken down some way or another. Many believe Nightmare and the gang is insane, but that was nothing compared to before they met each other. Many know to Nightmare and Dream, and their constant fighting to either protect or damage the Multiverse. Not all monsters are just ready to stand down and let that continue.When Horror, Dust and Cross are spending a day away from the mansion, they are attacked by two strange skeleton monsters. Horror is seriously wounded and believed to be death, while Dust and Cross was taken. Now Nightmare and Killer has to find all three of them before it’s too late.
Series: Positive and Negative [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1386529
Comments: 4
Kudos: 70





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m alive. This took longer than I thought it would, and I’d admit I lost inspiration a couple of times, but I’m happy to finally be able to post this story.
> 
> So if you read my other story “Awake”, you might recall I mentioned I would make a story for each of the Dark Sans (probably also the Star Sans’). Well, this is Dust’s story. In the first, maybe two, chapters it may look like Killer’s the main character, but I promise Dust is going to take the spotlight sooner rather than later. Hope you enjoy :D
> 
> Warnings throughout the story: character death, blood, mention of self-harm, torture, insanity/mental instability
> 
> Or pretty much what is also mentioned in the tags. Please, do not read this story if any of those topics may trigger you or makes you uncomfortable in any way. No chapters will have a warning for when this will happen to not cause spoilers. You have been warned.
> 
> Rated E for graphic violence (it may only need to be rated M, but I'm not sure and have rated it E just in case).

He felt weak. Every step he took felt like something was holding him down, trying to prevent him from moving. His body was covered in bruises and cuts, slowing him down even more. Through his whole life he could not remember being in so much pain. He was tired. He needed to rest, but he kept going.

He heard a voice beside him, whispering all the things he needed to hear. He needed to continue. He needed to keep going. He needed to become stronger. Weakness was not something he could show. Failure was not something he could be. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much he needed to rest, he could not allow it.

He did not know where he was, or how he got here. It was dark, the moonlight and the voice beside him serving as his guide. He could not remember much. He felt like he had forgotten something, but he could not figure out what. That feeling would not leave him alone and it was starting to annoy him. The voice told him to ignore it, yet he could not. Maybe he should go back to the other one after all? He did not know who he was, but he may give him some answers, and if not he could just kill him. The thought felt wrong earlier when he found him, now it sounded like the right thing to do. He needed to get stronger after all.

He spotted a figure farther away, making him smile. Someone was near him, someone had become his target. He was scared. He was in pain, giving the other an advantage. He could not show it. He had to be strong. Dust’s smile widened and he chuckled softly when the figure spotted him, looking rather startled. Whoever it was they were strong and to Dust that was always a good sign: it meant they would give him more EXP when he killed them.

#  Chapter 1

Killer gritted his teeth tight together in a way to keep a gasp back. He squeezed his eye sockets shut and took deep breaths to keep calm, but deep inside he knew he did not fool anyone. He felt one hand on his shoulder and another on his back, comforting him and silently apologizing for bringing him in pain. He slowly opened his eye sockets again and spotted Nightmare beside him, smiling reassuring to him. He then spotted the cause as to why he was in pain in the first place. A knife was planted in his humerus and going all the way through. Blood slowly glided down from the knife’s blade and down his arm. There was a small pool of blood at the shaft of the knife. Somehow a monster had gotten lucky in their resent fight and managed to stab him. Killer had barely felt it and did not notice there was a knife stuck in his humerus until Cross pointed it out. It hurt a lot when the knife was brought to his attention.

“You okay?” Nightmare asked.

Both of them sat on the couch in the living room. Horror had been asked to fetch the first aid kit from the kitchen, and Dust and Cross were standing not far from the couch, being sure to be nearby in case they were needed but far enough away to not stand in the way.

Killer nodded. “Just take it out,” he said as he closed his eye sockets again.

Horror returned with the first aid kid and sat down on the table near the couch. Nightmare asked him to get a couple of cloths ready and some bandages, as he knew once the knife got removed nothing stood in the way for the blood. When Horror stood ready, Nightmare warned Killer one last time before pulling the knife out. To Killer’s credit he barely reacted to it, only gritted his teeth tighter together and gripped tightly around the material of the couch. This was not the first time he had been stabbed, and Killer was one of the best of them to hide being in pain, so his reaction did not surprise anyone. He could not keep a groan from escaping when Horror started cleaning the wounds, closely followed by bandaging the humerus up. Because it was a rather harmless wound it was not necessary for Nightmare to heal it. He did want to and would have no problems with it as he had not used that much energy during the battle, but Killer refused the help, claiming he could handle it.

When his humerus was fully bandaged, Killer quietly thanked the others before standing up and leaving without another word. The four remaining skeletons looked confused after him. All of them had noticed Killer had been acted odd lately, and rather tired, which they suspected was also how he had gotten hurt. When Killer first started to distant himself, none of them thought too much of it as it happens rather frequently for them all. All of them suffered from nightmares about their past and not many of them wanted to talk about it when it happened, preferring to just deal with it alone. They could all handle a couple of nightmares and it was rare for them to last for over three days, so all of them had a good guess why if one of them would appear tired and a little grumpy some mornings. Killer usually just avoided everyone and stayed in his room, but it had now lasted long enough for him to start pretending nothing was wrong. He had never fooled any of them.

“Should one of us go talk with him?” Cross asked.

“Let him be for now,” Nightmare answered, knowing Killer most likely blamed himself for getting hurt and bothering the others with it. Talking with him now would only make it worse. “I’ll talk with him tomorrow, even if I have to corner him. Can you three be away all noon? I think that would make it easier to get him to talk.”

“Sure,” Cross said while Horror and Dust nodded. “I do need some new pencils anyway.”

“Pencils? You’re gonna use our free day on shopping?” Dust asked.

“Free day? We can go out when we want,” Cross pointed out.

“I know. That doesn’t change the fact we can’t use a whole afternoon looking for pencils. At least, I can’t.

“And that is not my problem.”

“It’s gonna be.”

Before Cross could answer, Dust hit him right in the face with a small water balloon. Cross blinked a couple of times in confusion, water slowly dripping down from his skull. When he figured out what had happened, he glared unimpressively at Dust, who had the biggest smile on his face.

“Now _that_ on the other hand is something I could do all day,” Dust said, fishing another small water balloon from his hoodie’s pocket and again threw it at Cross. “You’re really not good at dodging.”

As expected Cross fell for Dust’s taunt and lunged after him, in which Dust easily dodged. He winked playfully as he threw a third balloon, but this one Cross managed to dodge. While Cross was distracted by that, Dust ran out of the room. As Cross was ready to gloat about dodging the balloon, he sighed as he discovered Dust was gone. Knowing he was being played but at the same time not caring, Cross yelled after Dust and dashed out of the room as well.

Meanwhile, Horror chuckled as he listened to the yells by both Dust and Cross. They were too far away for him now to let him hear what they were saying, but Horror doubted he needed to know anyway. It was pretty common for someone to chase Dust around the mansion.

Nightmare rolled his blue eye at their behavior. “You’re in charge,” he said to Horror before leaving the kitchen as well.

***

The following day Horror, Dust and Cross did as they promised and headed out of the hideout to some random Au. They decided to spend the noon at some Au where the monsters were back on the surface, but other than that they did not know this Au’s story. It seemed rather peaceful, which none of them for once minded that much. They had not seen Killer the whole morning as he had stayed in his room ever since yesterday. By orders from Nightmare they had left him alone.

Cross was excited to check this Au out for some reason. They were at the moment walking down a street with a lot of different shops, and Cross almost stopped at all of them to take a look at the items they sold. In the beginning Dust had followed him every time he stopped at a shop, but got bored rather quickly as he had no interest with most of the things Cross wanted to see. They had promised to attract as little attention to themselves as possible, so they were not allowed to kill anyone or steal anything. For all the people and monsters walking with them on this street, they were just like any one of them.

In a way to make sure he did not get any unwanted attention, Horror had borrowed a T-shirt from Dust, as almost all of his own was covered in blood or torn. He also wore his hood so no one could see his crack. He knew the crack could either make people uncomfortable or worried about him, and he wanted neither. He was pretty sure no matter how much he tried, no one would believe him if he said he was okay. It was not normal for anyone to have a large crack in their skull.

The annoying thing about him wearing his hood was that it was a little too big for him. The hood would go all the way down to his eye sockets. It would not have been so bad if not for all the fluff around the hood. The soft material would go right into his eye sockets. It did not hurt him, he was after all the one who once grabbed his right eye socket with his phalanges. What was annoying about the fluff was how much it tickled him, just enough to get his attention but not scratch. As he felt the fluff yet again work its way down to his eye sockets, he blew up at it and hoped it would stay away from him this time.

Dust chuckled beside him. “You should’ve worn a different hoodie,” he commented.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t own a hoodie without it,” Horror answered, silently questioning why that was the case.

“Pfft, then you’re pretty much asking for it. Why not find one while we’re here anyway? There’s probably a hoodie around here you would like.”

“I’ll live with it, it’s just for today.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t count on that. We might have to keep a low profile again another day when, I don’t know, we need supplies,” Dust frowned slightly. “What did you do all the other times we did that?”

“Most of the times we just took from the Au we destroyed, my appearance really didn’t matter,” Horror answered, blowing the fluff away from him again. “And those times where we just walked around, the Au we were in was so insecure my crack actually fit in.”

“… Huh, I never noticed that,” Dust admitted and looked over at where he last saw Cross, only to see him gone. “Where did the kid go?”

“How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?” Cross huffed beside him.

Dust just smiled at him. “Too many times to count,” he admitted. “But it gets your attention and it’s fun, so it’s very affective.” He rolled his eye lights as he spotted Horror yet again blew the fluff away from his eye sockets. “Seriously Horror, just go buy a new hoodie or a hat or something. It’s starting to annoy me as well.”

“Fine, I’ll go look for something. Can I trust you two not to get in any trouble while I’m gone?”

“Look who you’re talking to.”

“I am, that’s why I’m asking. I know you, Dust, and I know you’re starting to get bored, and a bored Dust is a dangerous Dust.”

Dust smiled sheepishly. He could not deny any of that. “Can you blame me?” he asked. “There are too many people here. And I hate shopping.”

“We could find a forest or something after we’re done here,” Cross suggested.

“What do we need? If we leave now Horror won’t need to find an alternative to hide his crack.”

“I’ll still like to find something. You’re right. There’s probably gonna be another time where I need to hide it, and my hood is seriously annoying me,” Horror said.

“And I still need those pencils I mentioned yesterday,” Cross confessed. “I could need your help with that, Dust.”

Dust was not sure how he could help with anything relative to art as he was not that creative, but did not question it. They decided to meet up after half an hour before splitting up; Dust and Cross going one way while Horror went off on his own.

Dust did not lie when he said he hated how many people and monsters were present. It was never something he had thought about before, but now it seemed rather crowded on this street. Being trapped Underground and then killing everyone there might have had that affect on him, but he could not be sure. He followed Cross to some bookstore, where the other went over to the colored pencils. He shuffled through some of them before taking a couple and going over to Dust. Dust looked confused at him as he held one of the pencils next to his left eye socket without saying anything.

“Can I help you with something?” Dust asked somehow confused and annoyed as Cross held the other pencil beside his eye socket.

“I wanted to see if any of these matched the purple color of your magic,” Cross confessed. “The ones I have at home is a little lighter, and it’s really annoying me.”

Dust rolled his eye lights. This was why he was never going to be an artist. To him the colors were not that different and looking closer to the two pencils in Cross’ hands, they looked exactly the same to him, but apparently they were not as Cross put one of them away and found more of the other one from the shelf.

Dust decided to go outside and wait while Cross finished looking for whatever he needed. While Dust still did not like the amount of people on the street, it at least had fresh air compared to the store, and Dust hated feeling trapped. Looking around in boredom he saw something that brought some old memories back. On the opposite side of the bookstore was a music store, which had all kinds of different instruments displayed at the two windows. Not having anything better to do Dust decided to check the music store out and, much to his relief, not a lot of people were in there. He went over to the guitar section and looked at the different models hanging on the wall. He had not played for years and doubted he could remember how to play, so he mostly just stared at them.

“You could say something the next time you decide to wander off,” Cross commented beside him, now holding a bag. “I didn’t know you could play guitar.”

Dust had not noticed Cross beside him until now, but to his credit he did not jump when he started talking. He shrugged. “Eh, I played a little before the whole fallen human thing happened,” he admitted and smiled slightly. “It was Papyrus that came up with it.”

“Really?” Cross was not sure how much he should ask about it. When it came to his brother, Dust was unpredictable. Sometimes he could not talk about his brother without breaking down or fear he would see him again, other times he would talk about him with such fondness like any other Sans did.

“Yeah. He found it one day and gave it to me, claiming it would help me become more ‘productive’,” Dust answered. “I guess it worked. To start with I ignored it, but eventually I gave it a try and ended up playing, mostly while being at my post outside of Snowdin. I did not have that much else to do, so it helped me use the time. I’d admit it was quite relaxing.”

“Do you still think you can play?” Cross asked. “Or maybe you can learn it again?”

Dust shrugged again. “Like I said I haven’t played for years. I dunno.”

“You could try.”

Cross collected one of the guitars hanging on the wall and handed it to Dust. Dust did take the guitar, but to start with he did not do anything with it. Cross waited patiently. He did want Dust to give it a try, also because it may be able to give Dust something to do when he was bored, which happened often, especially when all the others had something to do. He and Killer used a lot of time together in the living room, carving and drawing. Horror would use a lot of time in the kitchen, but would sometimes join him and Killer in the living room, sharpening his weapons. Horror took great pride in his weapon collection and treated them with care, and that took a lot of time. Dust usually did not have anything to do at those moments. He did like to study the stars, but could not do that at day time and would be too lazy to travel to some Au where it was night. It would be nice to have Dust have something to do without having to leave the mansion and that did not cause any troubles for the others.

Dust eventually rose to the challenge. He sat down on a stool nearby and started strumming the guitar. Lucky for him the guitar barely needed any strumming. He thought about something he could play, but could not remember any of the notes of the old melodies he once played. Instead he just let his imagination take him and play whatever came to mind. It was a rather slow melody, not something Cross had expected. He expected Dust would play really loud and really fast, but he played this calm, almost sad, melody. Cross guessed it was just because that was easier to play. He did not have that much understanding of playing an instrument and had no idea what Dust was playing, but he thought he played rather well. He could catch how Dust would sometimes play a note that did not match with the melody.

“For someone who had not played for years, you’re really good,” Cross said as Dust stopped playing.

“I am a little rusty,” Dust admitted as he stood up and placed the guitar back where they found it. “But I am glad it’s not completely gone. It took me a long time to learn what I could.”

“You could start playing again.”

“Maybe someday. For now I really am tired of being in this city.”

Cross smiled as Dust took his phone from his pocket and called someone, most likely Horror. He still found it a little odd Dust did not like to be around so many people, or maybe the boredom finally got to him. He would make a mental note about this new discovery. Cross followed Dust outside of the music store and together they walked down the street, until they noticed Horror, now wearing some kind of hat that covered his crack perfectly. In a way of greeting he lightly tilted the hat up and down.

Dust smiled. “Nice hat,” he commented.

“I honestly don’t know if that was a complement or you teasing me, so I’m just gonna ignore you,” Horror answered. “Let’s get outta this place.”

He did not need to say that twice. Dust and Cross somehow saw this as an opportunity to race against each other. Together they ran down the street hoping to beat the other no matter what, which included all the dirty tricks they could think of except for teleporting, their only rule. Horror rolled his eye light as he listened to the crowd of the street yell after them, so much for not attracting any attention. At least this was not the kind of attention that would get them in trouble. Horror was luckily not in their game and therefore easily just teleported further down the street to keep up with them. Now he knew how Killer sometimes felt every time he was put in charge. Horror decided it was better to chase them down the street than argue with them about something. In the end he got tired of teleporting around on the street and just decided to teleport to the end and wait for them there. He may be the one in charge, but he knew Dust and Cross could take care of themselves.

He had no idea about the two pair of eye lights watching him from a safe distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally came up with something Dust could do as a hobby. Always liked the possibility of Sans playing an instrument, so why not make Dust do it as well?


	2. Chapter 2

Killer did not have time to soften his fall as he was thrown across the training area. He gasped as the air was knocked out of him. His whole body hurt from this fight and he considered if he should just teleport away, but found he had no energy to do so. Besides, the consequences of doing that would be much worse than what he was going through now. He panted loudly as he forced himself back on his feet.

“Do you have to throw me so hard?” he asked.

“How hard do you think they’re gonna throw you out there?” Nightmare asked his own question.

He gave Killer some time to collect himself, and to look the other one over. After Horror, Dust and Cross left, it did not take long for Killer to eventually arrive in the living room, looking just as worn out as yesterday. Nightmare knew if he confronted him then and there, Killer would either deny anything was wrong or flee from the confrontation, and Nightmare was not in the mood for either. Instead he dragged Killer outside, claiming he needed to train some more. Killer had suspected something was wrong, but was too relieved that Nightmare did not pry to notice. Now Killer wished he had denied the training lesson. Nightmare trained them hard, and Killer would not be surprised if he ended up passing out for being pushed so hard. Not that Killer told him any of that.

“Though, we should probably take a break,” Nightmare suggested, noticing Killer’s legs shaking from standing up.

“Nah, I can take it,” Killer insisted. “Just don’t throw me so hard next time.”

Nightmare rolled his eye light even though he had expected an answer like that. “Let us instead discuss why I actually dragged you out here,” he said. “What’s bothering you, Killer?”

“… Nothing’s bothering me.”

“Don’t lie to me, Killer. We barely see you at all; you’ve basically locked yourself in your room. You barely sleep, eat and when you’re actually with the others, you’re distant, like you’re not really there. Something’s bothering you, and I want to know what.”

“It’s… nothing I can’t handle. Just let it go, Nightmare. I’ll be fine.”

Nightmare silently questioned why he only knew stubborn skeletons. “Killer, what’s bothering you? And don’t make me ask again.”

“Nothing’s bother-.”

Again Killer got the air knocked out of him, this time by Nightmare smacking him with one of his tentacles. Killer hit with his back against a tree, groaning at the impact. He did not have time to comprehend what happened as Nightmare suddenly stood in front of him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and keeping him up against the tree.

“I don’t like being lied to, Killer,” Nightmare growled, his blue eye shining brighter.

Killer kept quiet. His back hurt from the impact with the tree, but he hardly noticed it. Instead he looked down towards the ground, not sure how to respond. He should have known something like this would happen the moment he discovered only he and Nightmare were at the mansion, not to mention the private training lesson. It was only now he realized he had walked right into Nightmare’s trap. He was not getting out of this before he answered Nightmare.

Nightmare, meanwhile, kept the stare towards Killer despite the other was no longer looking at him. He did not like hurting any of them as much as he hurt Killer during this, but sometimes it was necessary. Killer not answering him irritated him, and while tough love was sometimes recurred, Nightmare also knew when to stop.

Losing the glare, he asked more softly. “Is it nightmares? Did something happen between you and one of the others? Is it something I said?”

Killer remained silent.

“Killer, I cannot help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong,” Nightmare sighed.

Still, Killer remained silent. This time Nightmare did not get as irritated, as he could sense it was becoming too much for Killer. He was fighting a losing battle in holding it in, and Nightmare knew it would not be long before Killer could no longer keep the façade that he was fine. Killer began to shake, not because it was cold outside. Despite knowing he had no way of escaping this, he still weakly tried to get free from Nightmare’s grasp. He felt Nightmare wipe some of the liquid hate from his skull away, and Killer knew he only did that when tears were mixed in it. Killer had not even realized he had started crying.

“What’s wrong, Killer?” Nightmare asked again, still holding Killer against the tree. He knew Killer would try to escape if he let him go.

“… I… N-nothing’s…” Killer stuttered, stopping himself midsentence. He knew he could no longer deny something was bothering him, and even if he could he knew Nightmare would not be happy about it. “I just… don’t want to be… a bother…”

Inwardly, Nightmare sighed loudly. He could not count how many times he had had this conversation with Killer, though Killer seemed to have held it in a lot longer this time. It was no secret Killer had a habit of blaming himself when something bad happened to any of them, thinking he could and should have prevented it. Even when he had not been present, he would argue and say he should have been. Worse of it all was Nightmare had no idea how to convince Killer he was not a bother, that he was needed with them.

“Oh, Killer, how many times do I have to tell you you’re not a bother?” Nightmare asked. “I don’t know what we woulda done without you here.”

“I just-.”

“I know you don’t believe me, and I still hope one day you will,” Nightmare interrupted him. “Why would you think you are a bother? What made you think that?”

“I… dunno…” Killer started. “I… I only got hurt yesterday because I was distracted… And I was only distracted because I hesitated in another fight… You can’t use me if I hesitate all the time.”

“I’ve barely seen you hesitate.”

“I… I have suffered from a few nightmares recently,” Killer confessed.

Nightmare smiled. At least Killer doubting himself was not the only thing wrong this time. “Why didn’t you come to me? You know I can make them disappear.”

“I didn’t wanna bother you.”

“You know I don’t mind… What are the nightmares about?”

“… I can’t remember all of them, but the latest one was me killing my Au again. I don’t understand it, Nightmare, I’d done that many times and dreamt that often, but this time I really saw and felt the fear in everyone I killed.”

“Maybe you still care about them.”

“Maybe. It just doesn’t make sense. Why now?”

“I dunno… Maybe you should speak with Dust about it,” Nightmare suggested.

“Dust?”

“I’d admit I don’t understand what you’re going through, but Dust might. Dust is the only other one of us that had killed his entire Au with regret. If anyone would know about it, it would be him. Maybe you’re feeling the regret about killing everyone, maybe it’s just because of the nightmares, but I think it’s a good idea to talk about it, and talking to someone who understands it is even better. Maybe Dust can help you through it?”

“Hmm, maybe. I guess it’s worth a shot.”

“It is. And Killer,” Nightmare looked directly into his empty eye sockets. “You’re not a bother. Like I said earlier, we need you. How would I control the rest of them without you?” he added teasingly.

Killer smiled. “You’d go insane.”

“Already am.”

“I can’t deny that.” Killer chuckled. He looked around him for a moment before looking back at Nightmare. “Uh, Nightmare, can you put me down now? This is getting uncomfortable.” The pain he had felt during the fight was finally getting to him.

“Right,” Nightmare said as he released his grasp from Killer’s shirt. He quickly gripped Killer again as the other’s legs gave out from having to carry his weight again. “Huh, you’re really out of shape, Killer,” he teased.

“Shut up.” Came the reply in his arms.

Nightmare smiled as he teleported them inside the mansion. If Killer did not come with a comeback to that it meant he really was tired, and Nightmare needed to patch him up before the others returned. There was no point in making them more worried than they already were.

Placing Killer on the couch in the living room, Nightmare started to heal the small cuts he had received during the training. Speaking of cuts, Nightmare carefully tried to pull up one of Killer’s sleeves to see his humerus, but Killer protested. That already proved what Nightmare had feared, but he still felt the need to see. Ignoring the protest, Nightmare revealed Killer’s humorous and discovered the fresh scars covering the bone. Killer was yet again quiet.

Nightmare put the sleeve back in place, not saying anything. No words were needed. Everyone from the gang knew to Killer’s cutting habit, and no one had any idea how to make him stop. They could force Killer to not wear his hoodie, that way they could keep an eye on him as the hoodie did not cover all the scars. Nightmare decided against it. It would only make Killer feel worse, and he knew the others would not be able to not look at them.

No more words were exchanged between them as Nightmare finished the healing, including as much of the newly made scars as he could.

***

Dust felt a lot better. Now no longer being surrounded by a lot of monsters and people has never felt better. He was sitting under a small tree in a park, the tree too small to shade him from the sun. Dust did not mind that at all. Being a skeleton monster he could not get sunburned, and the warmness from the sun felt nice on his bones. He did find the night sky filled with stars a lot more beautiful, but Dust appreciated the sun just as much as any monster that had been trapped Underground would. Still, the sun was sharp and because he sat in the direction of the sun, it shone right into his eye sockets, and that annoyed him. Instead of turning around to lean against the tree’s other side, Dust chose the lazy solution and kept his eye sockets closed.

Horror had decided to look for something to eat and had been gone for a while now. Dust was not concerned. There were not any shops of any kind in this park, forcing Horror to search for one nearby. Dust knew the normally bloody skeleton did not mind having to walk a little further as it would help him spend the time, and Dust knew Horror secretly liked to be able to walk around other people without them freaking out. Most of the times he did not mind, but there were those rare times he wished he did not look the way he did.

Cross was not far from Dust. He had decided to be close to the lake the park surrounded. At the moment he was throwing rocks at the lake, trying to make it pounce more each time. It was clear he was starting to get bored and tried to entertain himself. Dust could not blame him, he wanted to go back as well. A relaxing day like this was nice, but Dust preferred to be at the mansion. He felt safer there.

“You falling asleep?”

Dust did not even open his eye sockets as he felt Horror sit down beside him. “Nope,” he answered. “Though a part of me wishes I was. How much longer do you think we have to be here?”

“Why? Getting bored?” Horror asked, leaning half against the tree and half against Dust.

“Yeah… And I wanna know what’s bothering Killer. It’s not like him to be like that.”

“Pfft, that’s exactly like him. Killer has a habit of blaming himself for everything that goes wrong, you know that.”

Dust sighed. “I do, but I don’t understand it.”

“I don’t think even Killer does, but that’s how it is. For now, let Nightmare handle it. He knows what he’s doing.”

“… He didn’t blame himself that much before we met Color…”

Horror looked surprised at Dust. “I think he did.”

“Did he?!” Dust exclaimed while opening his eye sockets. He quickly calmed down again as he said; “I never noticed.”

“I know you wanna find the course of this, Dust, but I think you’re wrong in blaming Color for it,” Horror smiled, learning more against Dust and looking up at the blue sky. “Remember, back then Killer did not show that many emotions. He showed a lot compared to when I met him, but emotions do not come easy to him, they never had. Seeing Color again definitely woke something in him, and he finds it harder and harder to hide how he feels.”

“I thought he wanted emotions.”

“He does, but if they overwhelm him, he does not know what to do with them and is afraid of worrying us with it. He does not know what to do with that, so he distances himself.”

“… How do you know all this?”

Horror shrugged. “Back when it was just me and Killer in Nightmare’s gang, I spend a lot of time with him. It’s crazy how much he changed… That goes to you too,” he added.

Dust chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I can’t deny that,” he said, closing his eye sockets again.

They did not stay like that for long. A figure suddenly blocked the sunlight, making him sigh and forced them open. When he saw it was Cross he was about to ask the other to move, but then he noticed the worried look on Cross’ features.

“Do you guys ever get the feeling of being watched?” Cross asked.

“Yeah, when I believed my brother was following me. He never left me alone,” Dust answered with a smile.

Cross frowned. “I mean it, Dust,” he insisted. “Something just doesn’t feel right.”

Horror looked around the park, but as far as he could see no one seemed to pay them any attention. “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary,” he said, looking around again. “Are you sure you’re not just tired, Cross?”

“I don’t know. I’ve had the feeling ever since entering the park…” Cross looked around in the people and monsters at the park, and he had to admit Horror was right. No one seemed to pay them any mind. That did not mean no one was watching them. Cross was not one to ignore his instincts, and they were telling him something was not quite right. The feeling was worrying him and he did not like that. As far as he could tell this was a peaceful Au and no one recognized them for being in Nightmare’s gang (if anyone had even heard about that), so there was nothing that could back his worries up. He still felt slightly uncomfortable by it and kept looking around.

“Why don’t you sit down for a moment?” Dust suggested. “You may have just spent too much time out in the sun. Speaking of the sun, you’re blocking it.”

Cross rolled his eye lights, but did ad he was told and sat down next to Horror. The feeling still lingered, but he felt calmer at being near Horror and Dust. He listened to Horror and Dust as they started up a conversation and gave his own input every once in a while, but he still could not help himself but be on guard.

***

“WE SHOULD JUST ATTACK THEM ALREADY.”

“Patience, my brother. We do not want to bring any people in danger.”

“BUT BROTHER, WE LET THEM WANDER AROUND THE STREET FOR HOURS WITHOUT DOING ANYTHING. WHO KNOWS HOW LONG WE HAVE BEFORE THEY LEAVE? THIS MAY BE OUR ONLY OPPORTUNITY TO CATCH THEM.”

“You have a point… I had hoped their leader and missing comrade would appear as well, maybe even the Destroyer, but it seems we are not that lucky.”

“I AM SURE WE CAN MAKE ONE OF THOSE THREE TELL US ALL WE NEED TO KNOW, INCLUDING WHERE THE REST OF THEM ARE.”

“Brilliant as always, brother. You’re right. We should strike before we lose the element of surprise… It seems like one of them is getting suspicious, anyway.”

***

“Cross, you’ve been glaring at that cloud for over ten minutes. Will you relax already?”

Cross ignored Dust and kept staring around. While his gaze was pointed towards the sky, he was actually looking straight ahead. Something felt wrong, and Cross did not like it. “I’ve learned to trust my instincts,” he said.

He had long since decided to lean against the tree instead of sitting against it like Horror and Dust. This way he was prepared if something were to happen. This was not the first time he suspected something was wrong while everything was fine, so he could not blame Dust for doubting him. He was known to be the most paranoid of them. He also would not be surprised if the one time he let his guard down someone would attack them.

“I don’t like this place anymore,” Cross confessed, finally tearing his gaze away from their surroundings to look at Horror. “Can we go home?”

“Alright, if it helps you calm down,” Horror sighed.

He was not sure what had gotten into Cross at this point, but whatever it was it was making him nervous and paranoid, something Horror would rather not deal with. Besides, they had stayed away from the mansion a long time now, it should be okay for them to return. Standing up Horror dusted the dirt off that had gotten on his shorts. Dust followed suit. Normally he would have been annoyed about leaving, but he was more than happy to return home this time. He was really bored. Cross had already calmed down by them getting ready to leave. He could not explain his feelings about this place, but he could not ignore them any longer.

Horror was standing with his back to their surroundings when he suddenly turned around and catched something thrown at him. Both Dust and Cross gasped as they recognized the object as a knife, and how Horror managed to catch it at the handle. Horror frowned down at the weapon for a moment before looking up, noticing two figures further away. They were too far away from him to see clearly, but he doubted he knew who they were.

Dust had not seen the figures and was still impressed by Horror catching the knife. “Ya gotta teach me how to do that,” he said in awe.

“Dust, focus,” Horror said plain and simple, not taken his eye light away from the figures.

Dust followed his gaze and finally laid eyes on the figures. He growled lowly as it downed on him how close one of them had been to seriously hurt Horror. Cross already stood ready, but for now awaited orders from Horror. He took the time to inspect the two figures. They had walked a little closer, not to the point they were a threat but enough to see them clearly. They were both skeleton monsters, definitely a Sans and a Papyrus.

The Papyrus wore a surcoat that reached him a little longer than his knees. At the top it was completely orange while it was black at the bottom. He wore a black belt around the middle and if you looked closely, you would spot some kind of metal under the surcoat, most likely something to protect him in battles. At the front of the surcoat was a picture of a dragon around a knife similar to the one Horror was now holding. His eye lights were at the moment white and he was smiling towards them, though it was not the friendly smile you normally saw on a Papyrus.

The Sans wore a surcoat just like the Papyrus, but his was sleeveless. The top of the surcoat was half blue and half black, while the bottom was the same but opposite. He too wore a black belt around the middle, though his dangled more in the air and did not seem to hold the surcoat. He also had a picture of a dragon on his chest, but this one did not surround a knife. He wore a dark blue cape with a hood covering his skull. Just like the Papyrus his eye lights were white, though looking closely Cross spotted a yellow glint in the left one every once in a while. Both of them looked confident and ready to fight, but so far they kept their distance. Cross guessed they wanted to see what he and the others could do so they knew what they were up against, something Cross also did many times.

Horror glided a phalange against the blade of the curved knife, noticing how sharp it was. “Nice weapon,” he commented towards their attackers.

The Sans smiled wider. “Nice reflexes,” he commented. “You’re the first one outside our world that’s been able to catch it with their hand instead of their back.”

“Care to enlighten me why you did that?”

A Gaster Blaster with spikes along its face appeared before him. Its yellow eye lights shone as it gathered a magic attack between its jaws. Before it could unleash the attack however, it was sliced in half by Cross, who had summoned a knife the moment the Blaster appeared.

Horror did not look the least surprised. “That’s what I thought,” he said.

No more words were shared between them as yet another Gaster Blaster from the strange skeletons appeared. This one did not take as long to gather an attack between its jaws, but it was still too slow to fire before it shared the same fate as the first one and was sliced in half. As the Blaster cracked and slowly disappeared, the Sans used the small glitter smoke as a surprise and had gotten closer to them. Horror saw him even despite the smoke and blocked the attack with the same knife he had catched not so long ago. Horror was knocked back as the Sans’ force from the run.

Dust and Cross wanted to help Horror, but they did not get far as a wave of bones shot up from the ground in front of them, blocking their view from the other battle. They turned around and glared towards the Papyrus, who now held a sword between his hands. Just like the knife the sword was curved as well. The blade glinted in the sun as the Papyrus ran towards the both of them. Cross blocked the attack with the knife he used earlier, and just like Horror he too was knocked backwards by the force, but not as much as he had been better prepared for it. As the back of his feet hit something, Cross was reminded of the wall of bones behind him and fought harder to get the Papyrus to back off before he was forced into the bones.

Dust’s left eye light lighted up with a purple flame as he summoned a wave of small, sharp bones and send them towards the Papyrus, expecting them to hit him right in the back. Instead the Papyrus heard the attack and before it hit him, he jumped out of the way and threw a small knife towards Dust. Dust widened his eye lights as his attack now was headed towards Cross. As quickly as he could he let the bones from his attack disappear, but this also made him oblivious to the small knife headed his way. He groaned as the knife hit him and brought his HP down.

Cross was by his side in a second. “Are you okay?”

Instead of answering the question, Dust pushed him out of the way. “Watch out!”

The Papyrus’ attack missed as Cross was pushed away, but he did not dwell on it for long. Now that he had gotten close enough to one of them, he grabbed Dust by the hoodie before he got away and lifted him up. Cross ran over to help, but was stopped by a couple of Gaster Blasters, one in front of him and one behind him. He jumped out of the way as both Blasters fired, barely missing him. As the Blasters got ready to fire again, Cross used the opportunity to destroy one of the Blasters, but he did not have time enough to slice the other one as well as it fired at him. This time he was not fast enough to dodge the attack and groaned as it hit him. He ignored the pain and attacked the other Blaster as well.

Meanwhile, Dust tried to get free from the Papyrus, but there was little to nothing he could do as he held him out at arm’s length. As his left eye light flared again to summon an attack, the Papyrus grabbed the handle of the knife still stuck in Dust and slowly sliced it down his midsection. Dust gasped and lost the concentration to summon the attack. He glared at the Papyrus as the other continued to cut him with the knife, refusing to show how much it actually hurt him. The Papyrus was impressed by that as he knew this would bring the other’s HP down. He looked closer at Dust and only now noticed how his left eye light glowed both red and purple, though at the moment the purple shadowed the red. He did not have time to think about it as he got hit from behind. The attack surprised him, but not enough to drop Dust. He growled lowly at the pain at his side and noticed Cross come at him again. He had thought the Gaster Blasters would keep the X-themed skeleton at bay for longer than that. He felt Dust try to break free again and in annoyance he threw him down at the ground before he attacked Cross again.

Meanwhile, Horror was in what looked like a fencing match against the Sans. He still used the curved knife as his weapon. Because they needed to keep a low profile and not attract any attention to themselves, Horror had not brought any of his axes or butcher knives with him. He did have a couple of small knives hidden in his hoodie, but they could not be used in this kind of fight. The curved knife he got to ‘borrow’ was his best option at the moment. He might have to use the smaller knives later or some magic attacks. Whoever these skeletons were they were strong, and Horror really wished he had brought his weapons with him, but this knife would have to do for now.

After he had been knocked backwards, he felt the earth shake beneath him as the Papyrus summoned a lot of bones, separating him from Dust and Cross, creating two different fights. That trick had worried Horror. It could be a way to separate them, and if that had been these skeletons plan, he had walked right into their trap. He still did not know why these skeletons had attacked them, but he guesses they either wanted to beat them for what they had done or see how strong they were against them. Being part of Nightmare’s gang did bring a reputation, and maybe these skeletons wanted to see what they could do against them? Horror doubted it was out of revenge, as he could not recognize either of the skeletons, nor did their clothes hint of a place Horror had been. He could think about it later.

Getting tired of the ‘swordfight’, Horror reached into his hoodie to retrieve one of the hidden knives. As he swung it to slice the Sans, he was forced to step back as the Sans took a chance to swing his sword towards him. Horror summoned a couple of bloodied bones from the ground around the Sans, but the Sans easily cut them both down with his sword and attacked again. He was too fast for Horror to stop him. He raised the curved knife again, expecting they would have another go at the ‘swordfight’, but the Sans caught him off guard by throwing the sword towards him as he ran. Horror managed to hit the sword away with the knife, but it distracted him long enough for the Sans to tackle him to the ground. They both landed with a thump. Horror hit the ground hard and in the short moment of his confusion, the Sans took the curved knife from him and held it against his neck, keeping him in place.

“You’re stronger than I imagined,” the Sans said.

Horror smiled. “Oh, I’m not even sweating yet,” he responded.

Horror stretched his legs up to his stomach and kicked the Sans off of him. The Sans clearly had not expected it but recovered quickly and landed on the ground on his feet. Horror retrieved the other small knife from his hoodie and swirled the two weapons around before pointing it at the Sans with a smile and a wink. The Sans glared at him. He still held the curved knife, but he preferred to use his sword, which lay too far away from him to retrieve without leaving him open. He would have to do with the curved knife for now.

The two of them stared each other down for a moment, each thinking about how to take the other down. The Sans attacked first by summoning a Gaster Blaster beside Horror. As Horror was busy taking the Blaster down, the Sans ran up beside him and stabbed him with the knife. Horror gasped as he watched the Blaster disappear. The Sans then grabbed him by his shirt and swung him to the ground. Horror landed painfully, and the Sans proved how fast he really was by standing beside him not a second later. He made sure to stand on his pelvis as he grabbed the knife still in Horror and pulled it out.

Horror growled. He was getting tired of this skeleton. With the two small knives still in his hands, he stabbed both of them into the bones of the leg standing on his pelvis. The Sans jumped away like he was standing on fire, and Horror only managed to pull one of the knives out of him. He ran into the Sans and stabbed him with the knife, but the Sans recovered quickly and managed to punch Horror away from him. He again summoned a Gaster Blaster to distract Horror, but this time Horror did not take the bait immediately and made a bloody bone from the ground appear before the Sans.

The two of them continued like this for what felt like forever. They would attack each other both physical and magical. They ended up using each other’s weapons several times as they disarmed each other. Eventually Horror started to get tired. He had several cuts, many from the curved knife and the sword, but also from his own weapons. He could no longer attack as swiftly and his magic attacks took longer to appear. He needed to end this now before the Sans would use this to his advantage. Pulling himself together, Horror summoned yet again some blood covered bones near the Sans. As the Sans dodged them, Horror summoned another bloody bone beside him and attacked the Sans with it, penetrating through his right arm. Horror then punched him so hard he fell over and landed on the blood covered bones he summoned as a distraction. The bones cracked as they broke the Sans’ fall, and he gasped in pain as he fell. Horror panted over the Sans as he watched him fall unconscious. Horror wanted to kill him, yet he worried too much about Dust and Cross to think about it. He had not been able to see them since this fight started. He turned his back to the Sans to return to the others.

That was a mistake.

Without his knowledge, the Sans had only pretended to be unconscious. He half opened his left eye socket and opened them completely the moment he saw Horror had turned his back to him. He rose soundlessly from the ground with a smile and sneaked up behind Horror. When he was close enough, he grabbed Horror, spun him around and punched him between the eye sockets. Horror fell backwards in shock, and he was not given the chance to recover.

The Sans grabbed him again, this time by the collar of his shirt. “Never let your guard down,” he whispered.

Horror widened his eye sockets as he watched the yellow and purple light shine from the Sans’ left eye light. He could do nothing as he felt his SOUL turn blue and was thrown down at the ground a couple of times before being thrown backwards. The wall of bones from the beginning of the fight broke his fall. Horror gasped as he heard bones break, though he was not sure if it was his own or the bones that broke his fall. He heard the familiar sound of a Gaster Blaster being summoned and he opened his eye sockets just in time to see the attack coming at him. This time the bones could not break his fall and he was blasted through them, landing several feet away.

Dust and Cross watched in terror as Horror flew through the air and landed motionless on the ground. Cross yelled his name as he ran over to him, relieved to see Horror was still conscious, but only barely. He gasped as he felt his SOUL turn blue and he was forced away from Horror. Both Cross and Dust growled dangerously as the Sans and Papyrus placed themselves in front of Horror, both forgetting how exhausted they had become.

Dust summoned a wall of bones around Horror in a way to protect him. He then summoned a wave of smaller bones behind him. Cross summoned a lot of knives behind him and together with Dust, they both send their attack towards the Sans and Papyrus, who used their weapons to protect themselves. They succeeded in blocking most of the attacks, but a few knives and bones managed to hit them. Thanks to the wall around Horror, no attacks hit him.

It seemed the Sans and Papyrus too had gotten tired of the fighting. The Sans was a lot more exhausted than the Papyrus, and that could be seen in his attacks. He was not as fast as when he fought Horror, but he refused to let the exhausting distract him now. Together with his brother he summoned not only bones, but also Gaster Blasters and surrounded Dust and Cross. As the Blasters got ready to fire, they suddenly lost their focus thanks to their masters. Both the Sans and the Papyrus gasped in pain as a bloody bone rose from under their feet, making them trip and lose their focus. They glared in unison towards Horror, who was panting heavily while standing up, holding his right arm close to his chest.

The Sans was the first one to recover. “I’ve grown really tired of you,” he growled. Again he took a hold of Horror’s SOUL and this time threw him over their heads and towards the lake.

“Horror!” Cross screamed as he watched helplessly Horror hit the water and did not surface.

He heard Dust growl again beside him, but by this time the Gaster Blasters from before had recovered. Seeing as Dust was getting ready to attack them again, the Sans and the Papyrus got the Blasters to fire at him. Dust screamed painfully as the force from the Blasters knocked him backwards until he hit a tree. He groaned as he slowly slit down to the ground, where he lost consciousness.

“Dust! No!” Cross yelled.

He got in a defending stance as the Papyrus appeared in front of him, but barely had time to even blink as the Papyrus punched him between the shoulder blades. Cross groaned in pain as he first fell to his knees and then on his stomach, also losing consciousness. It became quite after that. The citizens that had been in the park had long deserted it, screaming in terror. Now the only sound filling the air was that of the wind, the water from the lake and the pants from the Sans.

“They were stronger than I thought,” the Sans said, finally able to let his guard down.

The Papyrus looked towards the lake. “BROTHER, WE NEEDED ALL THREE OF THEM. WHY DID YOU THROW THE THIRD ONE IN THE LAKE?” he asked.

The Sans shrugged. “He was starting to annoy me.”

The Papyrus glared at him.

“Come on, Fair, we only needed them for information. Surely these two would be able to give us that.”

“I SUPPOSE YOU ARE RIGHT,” the Papyrus said, looking over at the lake again. “SHOULD WE SEARCH FOR THE THIRD ONE?”

“Nah, he’s most likely dust now. Let’s get away from here. We caused enough trouble as it is.”

The Papyrus nodded. As his brother created a portal to bring them home, he walked over to collect Dust by the tree. He then walked back to pick up Cross as well and went over next to his brother. Together the two unknown skeletons disappeared within the portal with two members from Nightmare’s gang.


	3. Chapter 3

Killer sat atop the roofs of the mansion, looking over the small forest nearby as the sun slowly started to set. There were too many clouds to see the sun, but Killer still liked the view. The clouds all had a pinkness to them thanks to blocking out the sun. The trees in the forest were slowly going darker, giving the mansion a darker outlet than it already was.

Horror, Dust and Cross still had not returned from their little outing. Killer was not too concerned about this. It would not be the first time someone did not return the time they told they would be back. Killer suspected something had caught someone’s attention and had dragged the other two with them. If they were busy with something, it would make sense for them to forget the time. What had worried Killer a little was none of them answered their phone and still had not called back. They could just be distracted and be somewhere too loud to hear the phones or they ran out of power. He did miss the other three. The mansion seemed so calm when there were only two of them, especially if Dust and Cross were not present. While Killer sometimes would welcome the peace, he now missed the chaos the mansion was usually in. He had probably gotten used to all of them being there all the time. It just felt too quiet now.

He also wanted to talk with Dust specifically. He was still unsure how that would help, but he would not question it if it did. Dust was one, if the not the, most childish of them all, but he could be serious when he needed to be. It was only in fights one of them needed to remind him to take things serious, and even that was rare. When it came to problems with one of them, he could be just as serious as the rest of them. Killer suspected Dust had hold that side hidden ever since he was a child, so it would make sense he let it out now that he could. If Dust had a similar childhood to Killer, then he barely had one, as he was too busy taking care of Papyrus. What worried Killer about talking to Dust was what he would say. Despite them having similar stories, they were still different. They killed their Au for different reasons, and Killer knew Dust would never understand how he could join Chara, the very same human who destroyed his life.

Killer shook his skull. He could not start thinking like that, as he knew it would only make him reconsider talking with Dust, and he had promised Nightmare he would give it a try. The sun had finally set, and by the sound of it Horror, Dust and Cross still had not returned, as they would have looked for him with how he had behaved lately. Killer checked his phone, still no messages or calls from any of them. The worry from earlier returned, and no matter how many times he reassured they were just distracted, he had that nagging feeling to check up on them, and he could not ignore it.

Climbing down from the roof of the mansion, Killer made his way to tell Nightmare of heading out to find the rest of the gang. Nightmare considered for a moment to join Killer, if only to make sure he did what he said he would and not try to hide again, but decided to let Killer go. In times like this Nightmare needed to show he trusted Killer, and Killer would not lie when it came to the gangs whereabouts. Killer thanked him as he was told where the gang had gone off to and was gone not a second later.

Just like back at the mansion, the sun had set in this Au as well. The only light came from the few lampposts standing around. Killer welcomed the darkness, as that meant he did not need to be careful about being seen. He did not draw as much attention as Horror, but people did tend to look at him if they noticed his SOUL and the black liquid running down his eye sockets. The soul he could hide. The liquid hate did not run as freely down as it once did, so he could easily wipe it away when it started to show. He hid his SOUL just in case, but for now let the liquid hate be. As far as he could see, he was alone, and he did not plan on being seen.

Killer started to look around. Having no clue what this Au had to offer nor what his fellow gang members could be doing, he had no idea where to even start looking for them. Again he found his phone and tried to call them, but just like all the other times no one answered. Sighing, Killer continued to look around. He was on some sidewalk near a road. Further down he spotted small houses and the other way he spotted a road leading to a small city. Killer sighed again as he made his way to the city. This was going to be harder than he thought.

Killer had no idea how long he had been walking down the sidewalk when he suddenly heard the sound of voices. Further down he spotted two monsters, happily talking to each other. They had not noticed Killer yet and he wanted to remain unseen, so he quickly hid behind a tree. He listened as the two monsters walked by.

“I can’t imagine what could have started that fight,” one of the monsters said. “Half the park is completely ruined.”

“Me neither. It’s scary to think something like that could happen. People might have gotten hurt,” the other said. “It’s a miracle no one got hurt.”

“You mean no one got hurt? What about the monsters fighting? Surely they could not walk away without any scratches.”

“I don’t know. I only heard about the damage to the park. No one stayed as soon as the fight broke out, so no one knows what happened to them. The park is closed off for now.”

“I sure hope they find whoever started that fight, and whoever they fought. By those damages, I can only imagine how hurt both of them most be.”

The conversation faded as the monsters passed by, oblivious to the skeleton monster behind the tree. Killer frowned at what the monsters had said and walked in the direction they came from, hoping that would lead him to the mentioned park. Knowing Horror, Dust and Cross they could be the said monsters in the fight, but a part of Killer also doubted it as the gang members knew they should keep a low profile while being here. They would not intentionally start a fight, and if one of them were about to do that the other two would stop him. Dust was the one most likely to start a fight, not that that said a lot. Dust knew how to control himself and was not one to fall for taunts, but it did happen once in a while if he was in a bad mood. Horror was just like Dust in that department, but he had always been good at controlling himself when it came to fights. The fact that he was also the one in charge this time would make him extra careful. Cross was one of the best of them to control his temper and rarely started fights. He was on the other hand the most likely one to join a fight, as he always would help any of them if he could. Still, Killer found it hard for any of them to start a fight here. He had not been in this Au for a long time, but it seemed rather peaceful. While that could be too quiet for Dust, he would never start a fight just to have something to do when he was not supposed to.

Killer finally spotted the park the monsters had talked about. Ignoring the small ‘keep out’ signs around the park, Killer walked over to see the damage better. The monsters had not lied when they said most of it was destroyed. The ground in many places was ruined; dirt covered most of the ground instead of grass. What Killer noticed the most were all the bones around, most of them still sticking up from the ground they had been summoned from. He recognized some of them belonging to Horror; the blood on them was a straight giveaway. He was not so sure about the rest of them. They could belong to Dust, but they could also belong to someone else. One thing was for sure; a fight had taken place here and the missing gang members had taken part in it.

The question still remained; where are they now?

It was hard to see in the darkness. The lampposts around the park did not do a good job at lighting it up, but it was enough for Killer to not see any pile of dust. Killing a monster would leave a huge pile of dust, and from how little wind was blowing it was unlikely any monsters had died here. It did not reassure Killer that much, just because there was no pile of dust did not mean the others were okay.

Killer glided a hand over his skull in confusion, unsure of what to do. He could continue the search, but a part of him was afraid of what he would find. He could also go back to the hideout to get Nightmare. Nightmare could come up with a plan in seconds, and he may be able to find the others. He could after all sense negative emotions, and if Horror, Dust or Cross were hurt somewhere in hiding, he would know. Killer decided to stay for now as he had not looked around the whole park. He made a round around the lake in the park, calling out to the others, hoping someone would answer him. He got no answer. Killer sighed. This was hopeless and he was wasting time. Horror, Dust and Cross may be in danger. He could not spend any more time looking around the park. They were clearly not here anymore.

That was what he thought until he looked across the lake. It was the first time he really looked at it. It was really dark, no lampposts were near the water. Despite that Killer saw something floating around, completely motionless, making Killer believe it was just a stub or something of the like. Walking closer to the lake, Killer tried to get a better view of whatever he was looking at, but it was no use. It was too dark for him to be sure if it really was a stub. Killer groaned irritated for not bringing some kind of flashlight. He could not use his magic as it did not lighten up anymore except when he summoned it, and that did not last long enough for him to see what was out there. It was times like this he wished he could still use Gaster Blasters. He still could, but the one he had left was not that stable and would not be able to help him in anything other than fights.

Killer sighed, wondering for a second time if he should just head back and fetch Nightmare. He looked down in thoughts and blinked a couple of times. He had forgotten he hid his SOUL when he entered this Au, just in case someone would notice him. He was so used to the red glow from it, it felt wrong now without it. Killer was not sure if the SOUL would shine brightly enough to reach the lake, but it was worth a try. Killer placed a hand on his chest and concentrated to summon the SOUL, letting the familiar red glow cast a light on his surroundings. Killer widened his eye sockets as he looked back at the lake. The object floating in the lake was not a stub, and when Killer took a closer look he noticed a silhouette of someone he would recognize anywhere.

“Horror?!” he yelled in alarm.

Horror was clearly unconscious, and Killer did not hesitate as he dove into the water, not even taken the time to take his clothes off. The water was cold, but there was no current so it did not take long for Killer to reach Horror. He called after him again and shook him gently, but Horror remained motionless. Killer grabbed him more firmly as he made his way back to shore, getting beside Horror in a panic. Horror was as cold as the water, and a quick CHECK showed Killer he had taken severe damage. Looking Horror over, Killer noticed all the damage he had taken. His clothes was a mess, ribbed several places. His T-shirt was covered in blood, which normally would have been common for him, but not this time. Horror would not have worn a blood-covered T-shirt at a time like this. Looking closer, Killer saw many holes in the hoodie that could be made from a knife, or another blade-related weapon. He tried to shake Horror again, but Horror still did not respond to anything he did. Killer looked out at the lake again, but he could not see anything out there. He needed to get Horror back, having no way in helping him here. He hoped neither Dust nor Cross were out there. Grabbing Horror again, he took a last look at the lake before teleporting them back to the mansion.

Arriving in the mansion’s living room, Killer placed Horror on the couch. He then quickly ran to fetch the first aid kid, a towel and a blanket. When he returned to Horror, he removed his hoodie, T-shirt and shorts as gently as possible and threw the wet clothes on the floor. Now with no T-shirt in the way, Killer could better see Horror’s injuries. Many cuts covered his bones, and Killer dried them with a towel. Not many of them bled anymore, but they were still worrisome.

It was at this moment Nightmare appeared. He had been in his room ever since Killer left and enjoyed the silence that followed of being the only one in the mansion, when he was suddenly hit with a strong sense of worry and panic. He had not expected to find a panicked Killer and an unconsciousness Horror. He understood Killer’s worry more as he spotted the injuries covering Horror’s bones. When Killer spotted him, he explained quickly what he knew, which was not very much. More worrisome was the fact he had no idea where Dust or Cross were. For the moment Horror came first. His injuries were severe and something Nightmare could help with right away. He would have to put his worry away for now and focus on helping the unconscious skeleton, and the one who found him.

“Killer, go upstairs and change clothes,” Nightmare said, not turning his gaze away from Horror as he started healing him. The familiar blue glow started covering a couple of places on Horror.

Despite popular belief skeleton monsters could get sick. Having no skin did give them better protection against diseases, but not invincible to them. Nightmare had no idea how long Killer had been in the lake, and he did not care. Killer’s clothes told him enough.

“What? I’ll rather stay here,” Killer complained, not understanding the big deal. He had barely noticed the wet clothes since he dove into the lake to get Horror. He had to admit now that he was reminded of it, it sticks uncomfortably to his bones, but it was nothing he could not handle.

“ **Now** , **Killer** ,” Nightmare growled as he lifted his gaze to glare at Killer. He knew Killer was just worried, but he did not need to have any more to deal with. He already had one injured gang member while two others were missing. The last thing he needed was for the fourth one to get sick. “You’ll be back in less than a minute. You can’t do anything right now anyway, and I don’t need you to get sick. Change, and when you’re done, bring some blankets or something of the like.”

Killer had stepped back at Nightmare’s tone, having not expected it. He still hesitated to leave, but eventually sighed and did as he was told. Nightmare was right after all.

With Killer gone Nightmare focused back on Horror. He healed the wounds to the point they would leave a scar, but at least they would no longer be in danger of bleeding. Horror’s bones were still as cold as ice and he shivered in his sleep. Nightmare did see that as a good sign, as Horror had not reacted to anything since he started healing him. Killer eventually returned, wearing dry clothes and a fort of blankets in his hands. Together both he and Nightmare put as many blankets around Horror as possible, almost trapping him in them. Now, the only thing they could do was to wait for him to wake up, and hope wherever Dust and Cross were, they were okay.

***

It was cold. That was the first sensation Dust noticed. Then pain. His whole body felt like it weighed a lot more than what it actually did. His bones were sore, especially his shoulder, his back and skull. He wanted nothing more than just go back to sleep, but he could not allow himself that relief. Dust could not remember what happened, but seeing as he was in pain and somewhere cold could only mean he was not safe. The gang would never leave him like that.

Weakly, Dust opened his eye sockets with a groan. It was dark, he could barely see anything. Wherever he was, he did not recognize it, even if his eye sight was a little fuzzy at the moment. Three brick walls surrounded him, the only opening covered by bars. He blinked a couple of times at the wall, keeping him locked in. Despite the small opening in one of the walls it was still dark, meaning it must have gotten dark. How long was he out? Where was he?

Dust groaned. All the questions made the thumping in his skull worse. One thing was for sure; someone had captured him. He was still alive, so whoever had captured him wanted him alive. He could not figure out what anyone would want with him, and he did not want to find out. His body screamed at him to stay put and rest, but Dust ignored it in order to stand up. His legs felt shaky just by doing that and shook under him by holding his weigh. He panted and leant against the wall. A moment later he tried to move closer to the bars, but a sound stopped him dead in his tracks. It was a sound he had heard before and he did not like what it meant. Looking down he confirmed what he feared; he was wearing leg irons. The metal clinked together every time he moved. They made him uncomfortable, feeling like a trapped animal. The feeling only got worse as he noticed the matching pair around his hands. Whoever had captured him was not taking any chances; the chains made it impossible for him to use any magic.

Dust groaned down at the chains. At least they weren’t chained to the wall, so he could easily walk around the small prison cell. The chains clinked together again as Dust walked over to the prison bars and looked around as much as he could, which was not very much. He was in some kind of dungeon, matching prison cells could be seen on the other side. The dungeon was not very big, only having around six prison cells. All the walls and the floor were made up of bricks and stone, and small forged lanterns hang between the prison cells, lighting them up a little but not enough for Dust to see if anyone was in any of the other cells. It was quiet, so he assumed he was alone.

Sighing tiredly, Dust gave into his body’s need for rest and sat back down, this time on the floor near the bars. His memories were still fuzzy. He could not remember how he got here, and his headache did not help him in any way. He still tried to remember. He had been in some Au with Horror and Cross, in a park to be precise. And then…

Dust could not remember. He was tired and finally let himself fall back to sleep. Whatever happened could wait.

***

Cross could not keep a groan from escaping him as he woke up. His skull hurt a lot, making it hard for him to concentrate. It was nothing compared to the pain near his shoulder blades. Despite the pain, he noticed he was sitting against a wall. He wanted to message the pain away, but an unfamiliar sound stopped him. His mind was too hazy to identify it. He blinked a couple of times, trying to get his vision to focus. As he looked down at his hands, his confusion increased. Handcuffs held his hands together, the metal felt cold against his bones. When he looked further down, he noticed his legs were in a familiar state. As his gaze followed the chains from the handcuffs, they ended over his head, making sure he could not go too far.

At first Cross thought it was some sick prank Dust pulled on him. He was the only one from the gang that had strapped him down before; one time because he was sick and did not want to stay in bed, another as a prank. It had been so embarrassing, mostly the one where he had been sick. The rest of the gang had laughed a lot when they saw him trying to get free from the straps while Dust sat on a nearby chair, explaining he did warn him.

An image of Dust smiling at him with that teasing smile of his made Cross look around the room. Dust was nowhere in sight, neither was anything else. The room was completely empty. There were only a closed door and a window with the curtains closed off. Despite that, Cross could see through a gap it was dark outside. The walls of the room were a dark blue color, while the floor was grey. Cross had no idea where he was.

His skull hurt too much for him to think. Despite the pain, he stood up. His legs felt shaky, he must have sat in an uncomfortable position. As he walked towards the door, he was reminded of the handcuffs strapped to the wall. Noticing the length of the chains, he could not reach the window either. Cross sighed and went back to sit against the wall, this time more comfortable. Despite the headache, he tried to remember what had happened. He needed to remember.

He had been in a fight against someone. Who were they anyway? Cross had never seen them before. They attacked without warning. He had not been alone, had he? It was hard to remember, but a vague memory of standing beside Horror and Dust entered his mind. He could not remember if Nightmare and Killer was there as well.

Cross shivered. It was very cold in the empty room. He thought for a moment if the window was open. His eye sockets felt heavy, but he refused to close them. He was scared. He had no idea where he was, where the rest of the gang was, or what was going on. He tried to take deep breaths to calm down. He needed to keep calm. The rest of the gang was probably looking for him, and knowing them, they would find him soon.

Unless they are chained in one if the rooms next to him.

The thought scared him even more than he already was. An image appeared in his mind; Horror being thrown towards a lake, closely followed by Dust being blasted into a tree. The memory sent Cross into panic; were they okay? He needed to know. Standing up again, he reached for the door only to be stopped by the chains. Cross growled as he laid all his weight to pull against the chain holding him, but it was not budging. He kept trying until he ran out of energy, the handcuffs left marks on his hands. Cross started shivering, now no longer because of the cold. This can’t be happening.


	4. Chapter 4

Killer was pacing back and forth in the living. He had gotten tired of sitting still and needed something to do, and pacing around was the only thing he believed he could do. Horror was still unconscious. Other than groaning in pain from time to time, he had showed no signs of waking up. He was stable, according to Nightmare, but Killer could not help but worry about him. Horror had been asleep for a long time now. There still had been no sign of Dust and Cross, and Horror was the only one who had any idea where they could be.

Nightmare had gone to the Au the three gang members had been attacked, hoping to find some glue as to what happened, or better yet; the two missing skeletons themselves. Killer had wanted to accompany him, but someone had to stay behind in case Horror woke up. It was best for Nightmare to search for Dust and Cross, as he could do it more affectingly. It meant Killer could do nothing but wait, and the longer he waited, the more worried he got.

A wheezing sound snapped him out of his worried mind. Running back to the couch, he was happy to see Horror’s eye sockets open. His joy did not last long. Horror’s red eye light was unfocused. He was breathing heavily with the wheezing sound every once in a while, as if he had troubles breathing despite not actually needing to. He was sitting up and could be seen shivering from under the layers of blankets. Killer carefully tried to talk to him, but he did not respond. Horror was in a panic, feeling trapped and wanted to escape. His SOUL felt heavy between his ribcage. He felt like he needed to get away, like he was in danger. Despite how much he tried, he could not get his body to respond to his commands. No matter how much he wanted to, he could not get it to stand up and get away. He felt weak, even too weak to use any magic, including his ability to teleport. The feeling of helplessness only increased his fear.

Killer grabbed each side of Horror’s shoulders. “Horror, Horror, it’s okay, calm down,” he said as gently as he could despite the situation.

Horror did not react at all to him. His eye light was still unfocused as he looked around the room, trying to determine where he was.

Killer snapped his fingers in front of Horror, trying to get his attention. “Horror, hey, look at me, Horror.” When Horror did look at him, he smiled. “That’s it, Horror. Focus on me. You’re safe, I promise. I got’cha. It’s okay.”

Killer kept saying comforting words. At first Horror did nothing but stare at him, his eye light remained unfocused. He started to slow down his breathing, trying to keep calm and understand what was being said to him. He recognized that voice, but at the moment he was not sure who it belonged to. The voice did calm him down, his mind reminding it was a voice he could trust. He blinked a couple of times to clear his skull, and for the first time since he woke up, he actually saw where he was, and who he was with.

“… Kil… ler…?” he rasped out.

Killer smiled reassuringly, trying to keep calm himself. “Yeah, it’s me. You’re safe, Horror. It’s okay.”

Horror blinked at him again. It felt like he had been hit by a truck. Now that he was slowly calming down, he became aware of how hurt he actually was. At the same time he suspected he did not feel as much as he should. He shivered, only now noticing how cold he was. He had several layers of blankets over him, some of them had gone down after his panic, but they still covered most of him. He felt like they did nothing. His mind was fuzzy. He could not remember how he got hurt this badly.

After making sure Horror kept calm, Killer reached for a glass of water on the table. Horror happily accepted it, and was relieved at having the water being the same temperature as the room. He swallowed all the water and leaned back, trying to understand what was happening. Killer sat down beside him, readjusting the blankets around his shoulders and placed a hand across his shoulders, trying to help him keep warmer. Horror still shivered, but leaned subconsciously closer to Killer. Killer had many questions for him, but he held them back for the moment. Horror did not seem to be in the right mind, and he did not want to bring him back to his nightmare.

An hour or so later, Nightmare returned to the mansion, alone. He had found no clues as to what could have happened to Dust and Cross, nor who they had been fighting. He was sure of one thing now; they were not in that Au anymore. He had searched it from top to bottom, and there was no way they could still be there. It had been a letdown, but he did not let it show as he saw Killer and Horror on the couch. Horror was leaning heavily on Killer with his eye sockets closed, seemingly asleep.

“How is he doing?” Nightmare asked.

“Okay, I think,” Killer answered. “He woke up in a panic about an hour ago, very tired, sore and cold… Any sign of Dust and Cross?”

“Nothing.”

Killer looked down, subconsciously pulling Horror closer to him. “What now?”

“Well, I hate to do it when he’s not feeling well, but we have to wake Horror,” Nightmare answered. “He’s the only one who can give us answers, and I’m afraid it would do us no good to wait.”

“Okay.” Killer did not like it, as Horror looked content right now. It did not feel right to wake him when he looks like that, but Nightmare was right; they had no idea what became of Dust and Cross. For all they knew, they could be in danger.

Nightmare let Horror sleep a little longer while he prepared some tea for him. He knew how cold Horror must feel, and it would be awhile before he would no longer shiver. The tea should help him ignore the cold for a moment. When he returned, he told Killer to wake Horror up. Killer hesitated only for a moment before starting shaking him, being careful not to hurt him while doing so. Horror leaned away from Killer, but he did not stay away for long as he missed the warmth it brought by being close to him. When the shaken of his shoulders did not stop, he groaned and buried his skull deeper into the blankets.

“Horror, I need you to wake up,” Killer whispered. He was happy Horror did not react the same way as the first time he woke up.

“No,” Horror whined, voice being muffled by the blankets.

“Come on, Horror. It will just be for a moment, I promise.”

Horror kept his eye sockets closed. When Killer did not stop in trying to wake him, he sighed and finally opened his eye sockets. His red eye light did not shine as much as it usually did. He blinked to clear his vision, and smiled a little as he noticed Nightmare. Nightmare sat down on his other side and offered him the cup of tea. Horror happily accepted the tea, freeing one of his hands from the layers of blankets. It was still too hot for him to drink it, but he was content at just holding it close.

“How are you feeling?” Nightmare asked.

“Tired… cold…” Horror answered.

“Yeah, you’ll probably be that for awhile. The water started to affect your magic, it will take time to get it back to normal.”

Horror’s only answer to that was to close his eye sockets.

“Stay awake, Horror,” Nightmare demanded.

Horror sighed tiredly again, but did as he was told. He took a small sip of the tea, enjoying the warm it brought with it.

“Horror, I need you to tell me what happened,” Nightmare said when he was sure Horror did not try to go back to sleep again. “Can you remember what happened?”

Horror kept quiet. If not for Nightmare keeping quiet as well, Killer would have thought Horror had fallen back to sleep. Horror took another sip of the tea, trying to remember. It was a blur for him. Something happened, and he knew it was important for him to remember what exactly. With the hand still hidden under the blankets, he felt along one of his new scars. It was curved, like… like the weapon that caused it. It was a knife, a knife that could easily be mistaken for a small sword.

Horror widened his eye sockets as the memories returned to him, and he had no idea what happened after he was thrown in the lake. He looked around, his panic raised again. “Where’s Dust and Cross?!” he asked, still trying to locate them.

Doing his panic, Horror forgot he was still holding the tea and would have dropped it if it wasn’t for Nightmare. Killer held around Horror again, trying to calm him down. Horror did not have the energy to keep this up and it did not take long before he sank back against the couch. He was still panicked, but no matter what he did, he could not get his body to respond to his commands. He was tired, his eye sockets felt heavy, but now not knowing where Dust and Cross were kept him awake.

“Horror, can you tell us what happened?” Nightmare asked when he believed Horror had calmed down as much as he could.

Horror nodded, and smiled gratefully as Nightmare handed him the tea back. “Um, someone attacked us,” Horror said.

Nightmare frowned. It was rare someone attacked any of them, especially without reason. He never questioned if someone did do that, as they did it all the time, but it did not make sense. He picked that Au because it was peaceful. He doubted someone would attack his gang without reason if they were from there. He suspected for a moment if his gang had started it, but banished that thought. His gang would never attack if he ordered them not to, and he trusted they would not do it. Even if they did start it, that would not explain why Dust and Cross was now missing. That could mean someone had intentionally sought them out, and Nightmare was not sure how to feel about that.

“Who attacked you?” Killer asked.

“I… I don’t know,” Horror admitted. “I’ve never seen them before.”

That definitely did not make this easier. “Do you remember what they looked like? What they were wearing?” Killer asked.

Horror thought for a moment. “It was a Sans and Papyrus,” he started. “I… I can’t really remember what the Papyrus was wearing, I only saw him at the beginning and end of the fight, and I was a little dizzy by then… The Sans was wearing a… Ugh, I don’t know what it’s called.” Horror did not know much about clothing, and he had no idea what the Sans had been wearing was called. He had a clear picture of the Sans in his mind, but he could not describe him. It was a moment like this he wished he could draw like Cross.

“It’s okay, Horror,” Killer reassured him. “Can you try and describe it?”

“Uh… I guess it could be seen as a vest? But it reached down to his knees. It was black and blue, and it had a, uh, a… a dragon, yeah, it had a dragon around the chest area. And… he wore a cape of some sort, with a hood… I believe it was blue as well…” Horror thought for a moment longer, until the memory of the Sans’ eye lights appeared. “He had Justice and Perseverance.”

“Doesn’t sound like anyone I’ve heard of before,” Nightmare said. “Did they say anything interesting during the fight?”

“Not that I remember… Sorry.”

“It’s okay. We’ll find them,” Killer said, bringing Horror close to him again.

Horror felt guilty for not remembering, and worried about happened to Dust and Cross. He had a slight memory of hearing Cross call his name as he was thrown towards the lake, but he was not sure if that actually happened. His mind started to spin again, the slight movement he had made reminded him of the pain he was in. His eye sockets were still sore, and now that he was back at resting against Killer, he enjoyed the warmth it brought and how safe he felt. He could not keep his eye sockets open anymore, and as he closed them, it did not take long before he fell asleep. Nightmare and Killer did not try to stop him.

Killer looked over at Nightmare. “What do we do now?” he asked.

Nightmare sighed. “That is not much to go on,” he commented. “I have no idea who this Sans could be, nor does his outfit remind me of anything…” He thought for a moment. “You stay here and keep looking after Horror. I don’t think it’s good to leave him alone right now, even when he’s asleep. I’m gonna find Error. He may have an idea who this Sans could be, and where he’s from.”

Killer nodded. A part of him was afraid Error would not know who this could be either, but if anyone would, it would be him. He just hoped this Sans had done something before that made him stand out.

“Take care of him,” Nightmare said before he teleported away to the Void, determined to find the Destroyer.

Finding Error did not take long. The God of Destruction was sitting in the empty void, seemingly to be fast asleep. The moment Nightmare arrived however, both his eye sockets shot open and looked towards him.

“Heya, Nightmare,” Error greeted. “What can I do for you?”

It was rare for Nightmare to seek Error out unless he wanted something. Error did not really mind this. He was with the gang back at the mansion many times, so it was not because he hoped any of them would visit him in the Void just to see him, especially not Cross, as the X-themed skeleton would surely be uncomfortable in the Void, as it reminded him of the fate of his Au thanks to the whiteness.

Nightmare explained to him what had happened, including the inscription of the unknown Sans. “Do you have any idea who he could be?” he asked.

“No, I do not,” Error said without hesitation. “He does not sound like anyone I’ve encountered before.”

Nightmare sighed. “I was afraid you would say that.”

“Sorry,” Error said. “Do you think those two have kidnapped Dust and Cross?”

“I don’t know where else they could be… I just wished I knew why they took them.”

“Hmm…”

“Is there a chance you could search the Multiverse for them?”

Error looked skeptical. “Well, I can, but the chances of me actually finding them is very slim, Nightmare,” he admitted. “We both know that is not much to go on, and the Multiverse is big. Even with the knowledge of the Sans not wearing a hoodie, it will still be like finding a needle in the ocean.” He noticed the almost sad look on the other. “That does not mean I won’t try.”

Nightmare smiled. “Thanks, Error.”

“No problem. Just… don’t get your hopes up with this.”

***

Cross jumped a little when the door to the room opened. In stepped two skeletons, the same ones that attacked him, Horror and Dust. He had no idea how long he’d been awake in this room, all alone, but it had been long enough for him to remember what had happened, calm down and be able to recognize the skeletons that attacked them. Cross was not sure what to expect. He kept on looking at the two skeletons, which seemed to study him right back.

“So, care to tell me why _this_ ,” Cross held his hands up to show the handcuffs, “is necessary?”

“That’s quite simple, actually,” the Sans answered, now standing in the middle of the room. “You’re part of Nightmare’s gang. You’ve killed more monsters than I can probably count to. And you will attack us otherwise.”

Cross had to admit he would do the last part, but he knew it was best not to show that. He kept quiet, unmoving. He knew it would be a bad idea for him to pretend he would not. He had no idea who these skeletons are, but they seemed to know a lot about him and the gang. Why else would they attack them out of nowhere?

“Fair enough,” Cross said. “I’m guessing there’s a reason you brought me here?”

“We can make it quite simple,” the Sans said. “Tell us where Nightmare’s hideout is, and we’ll let you go.”

Cross was stunned for a second, having not expected that question. “The hideout?” he repeated and frowned. “Who wants to know? Who are you two? I don’t recall seeing you guys before.”

“WE’LL TELL YOU IF YOU TELL US WHAT WE WANT TO KNOW,” the Papyrus chirped in.

“I’m not that curious,” Cross simply replied.

The Papyrus glared at him, but the Sans stopped him from going closer. “Easy, Fair, there’s no reason to get frustrated,” he said.

The Sans walked up next to Cross, Cross watching him the whole way. He thought for a moment to take the chance and attack, but decided against it. With the handcuffs, he had no way of summoning any weapons. During his time alone, he had discovered his non-magic weapons had been taken from him, leaving him defenseless except for his hands, and he could not fight that well with his hands chained the way they were. It was best to appear cooperative, for now.

“For now at least,” the Sans continued. “Listen, Cross, isn’t it? All we want is a little information. Once we have it, we’ll let you go. There’s no reason to make this complicated.”

“Uh-huh. I don’t believe for a second you’re just gonna let me go,” Cross said. “And even if you did, I still won’t tell you anything. You’re just wasting all of our time.”

“I don’t think so. We can do this the easy way or the hard way, and trust me when I say my brother prefers the hard way,” the Sans said, both he and Cross looked over at the Papyrus at the sound of a sword being drawn. “It’s your decision, but keep in mind, no matter what you decide, we’ll get what we want. If that means breaking you, then so be it.”

With that said, the Sans turned around and indicated with his skull for Papyrus to leave the room. He followed him, but before he left the room, a voice stopped him.

“Who are you?” Cross asked.

The Sans smirked back at him. “I’m called Justice,” he revealed. “And my brother goes by Fairness. Remember what I told you, Cross, we’ll hold nothing back if you choose the hard way.”

He left the room before Cross could say more, the door slammed behind him. Cross stared towards the door, listening to their retrieving footsteps. Justice and Fairness? The names meant nothing to him. He would not like to admit the threat did scare him a little. He’d been stabbed many times before, that did not mean he enjoyed it. Every other time someone stabbed him, it was with the intention to kill him, not hurt him. He really hoped Horror and Dust were not somewhere here as well, and that the gang would find him soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Justice and Fairness is just someone I came up with. I wouldn't be surprised if there exist some Au that could replace them, but I just decided to come up with my own instead. There's more information about them later on.


	5. Chapter 5

“The hideout? Why would you want to go there? And, more importantly, why would you think I would spill the beans to the two of you?” Dust asked.

Dust had woken up awhile ago. He had no idea how long he had been out, but he knew it had been for the rest of the night, as it was now daylight outside. He still had a headache and a sore back, but was happy about not having such a fuzzy memory. He could recall everything that happened, of course except for after he passed out. He figured rather quickly the two skeletons had taken him, though he did not know why.

He did now. The skeletons, Justice and Fairness he corrected, had disturbed him while recollection what happened. They had opened the cell door to his little prison, though only the Sans, Justice, were in it with him. They tried to appear friendly, but Dust saw through them. They were not scared of him, but they definitely did not like him, maybe he even made them uncomfortable? Not really a surprise, as it seemed they knew he was part of Nightmare’s gang. He suspected they tried to appear friendly to get him to talk. Stupid, if someone asked him. Dust had not forgotten about how they threw Horror into the lake, or how beat up he was before that. He wanted to attack them, but he knew it would be a bad idea. His body still hurt, he was still tired and he had no way in summoning any magic attacks. Now he wished he was like Horror and always carried a small weapon hidden in his clothes. It was amazing how many weapons Horror could hide.

“Ah, we just want to talk with… your boss,” Justice answered.

“Yeah, like how you just _talked_ to us yesterday?” Dust said. “Sorry pal, you’re not getting anything out of me.”

Justice took a small, curved knife hidden from inside his surcoat. He twirled it around his phalanges. “I’m sure we can make you talk,” he said.

“Nice sword,” Dust commented, ignoring the thread. “Ya know, my pal Horror collects weapons, I’m sure it would be a nice surprise if I got that one for him, unless he already has it, of course. I’ve lost track a long time ago.”

“Ya sure ya wanna test my patience?” Justice said, pointing the small knife in Dust’s direction.

Dust shrugged. “Why not? It may not be part of your features, so I don’t think I’mma wait long before it’s spent,” he said. When he noticed Justice walk closer with a glare, he continued. “Okay, okay, how about this? I ask you guys something, you answer, and then you get to answer something afterward?”

Justice nodded, though he suspected Dust was playing a game on them. He did not know a lot about the dusty skeleton, but he knew once the skeleton decided on something, he would not be easy to budge; the Determination and Perseverance would make sure of that. That did not mean he was unbreakable.

“Nice, so what should I ask…?”

If he was being honest, Dust had no idea what he was doing. He did not really care much about these skeletons, but if it kept the knife away from him, he would let them talk as much as they wanted to. His body was still sore, and being cut by a knife would not help him. He also hoped this would give him some time. He hoped the gang was searching for him, and he hoped they would find him before he was being cut. He did not know these skeletons, but he was sure they meant their threats. He was surprised they haven’t just started doing that. He was not complaining though.

“Hmm, I already know you’re names and that, so, uh… Oh, why are you doing this?” Dust asked. “I mean, it’s not every day someone attacks us. It’s quite rare, actually. Usually, when monsters knows who we are, they would either run or contact the Star Sans’. Being attacked, then kidnapped, is new.”

Justice blinked at Dust a couple of times. He had not expected the skeleton to show any fear, but he had not seen this coming. Dust was smiling and talking to them in a tone that could be mistaken for them being friends. He knew Dust did not trust them, so it was fascinating how he could appear so calm, even while being chained and having a knife pointed his way. It proved what Justice already knew; this guy was not going to be easy to break. He hoped they could break the other one first.

“OH, YOU KNOW TO THE STAR SANS’? HOW ARE THEY?” the Papyrus, Fairness, asked.

“Hey, a question for a question, remember? I’ll answer once mine have been answered.”

“OKAY, THEN. WELL, WE WANT TO KNOW WHERE NIGHTMARE’S HIDEOUT IS SO WE CAN… CONFRONT HIM.”

“Confront him? Do you know him? Ah, I broke my own rule, I’m sorry. You answered my question, now it’s my turn,” Dust said, and took a moment to remember the actual question. “Well, you do know I’m part of Nightmare’s gang. I guess it would be quite normal for me to know about the Star Sans’… Can’t really say I know much about them. Wait…” Dust looked up at them. “Are you part of the Star Sans’?”

Fairness sighed. “UNFORTURNATELY NOT. WE WANNA BE, THOUGH, AND THIS WILL HELP US BECOME IT.”

Justice glared at his brother, and it took a moment for the Papyrus to understand why. When he did, he smiled rather embarrassingly. He had gotten a little too excited during this talk and had forgotten who he was talking to.

“Really now?” Dust said, completing the puzzle. “… You wanna be part of the Star Sans’? You’re searching for Nightmare…? I don’t know if you think you can capture or kill him, but trust me when I say, you can’t do either.” He smiled. “Nightmare’s stronger than the both of you.”

“We won’t know unless we try,” Justice said.

“Well, I guess that’s true. You don’t stand a chance against him, though.”

“Tell us where he is, and then we can find out.”

“Like I said earlier, you’re not getting anything out of me,” Dust said. “Why do you wanna be part of the Star Sans’? They’re nothing but a bunch of boneheads.”

With little to no movements, Fairness threw a small knife from outside the cell and hit Dust in the leg. Dust could not keep a groan from escaping, having not seen it coming.

Justice did not react much to it. “We’ll give you until tomorrow to think about your options. Trust me, that little wound will be nothing compared to what we’re gonna do to you,” he said. He walked over to Dust and took the knife out of his leg, before retrieving and locking the cell door behind him. Fairness glared at Dust for a moment longer before following his brother.

Dust did not say anything this time as the knife was taken out of him. Looking down at his leg, he was surprised at how little the wound was; it barely bled. It looked more like he had accidently cut himself than an attack. He sighed. He guess it would make sense for them for wanting to find Nightmare if they had something to do with the Star Sans’. From what he could gather, he was not sure how much the Star Sans’ knew to them, and he did not care. He was not going to tell them anything. He did mean it when he said Nightmare was stronger than them, but if he told them where the hideout is and they escaped their ‘confrontation’ with Nightmare, they could tell the Star Sans’ about it. It would be sad if they were forced to leave the Au they considered their home.

***

Nightmare was at a loss for what to do. He never imagined he would be in this kind of situation. Two of his gang members were missing, and he had no idea who could have taken them, nor what they wanted. He had not heard from Error since he talked to him yesterday, and he had considered writing to him to hear if he found something, but had yet to do so. If Error found something he considered a lead, he would not hide it, even if it turned out to be nothing. He did not want to disturb the Destroyer, and therefore did not try to contact him, not yet anyway. It had only been a day, after all.

Nightmare had returned to the mansion right after he talked to Error. Horror had mostly been sleeping, only waking up a couple of times. He still complained about being cold, but he did seem to be getting better. He still showed signs of being confused and had a one point complained about feeling nauseous, luckily that had not turned out to be anything. Both he and Killer were sleeping together on the couch. Killer had been awake almost as long Nightmare, until Nightmare asked him to get some rest. Killer wanted to object, but once Nightmare explained if they found out where Dust and Cross were and they needed to be rescued, Killer would be no good if he was too tired to fight. For once, Killer listened to reason and fell asleep not long after. Nightmare had been relieved, as it meant he did not need to use any sleeping magic on him. It did not take a lot out of Nightmare to do that, but he preferred not to, mostly because he knew his gang did not like it when he did that to them. On the other hand, if they just listened to him, he would not need to do it.

He sighed quietly to not wake the sleeping skeletons. The mansion was very quiet now without Dust and Cross. They’d been gone for just one day and Nightmare already missed the chaos they made. Normally, a quiet day like this would mean one thing; Dust and Cross were either plotting something or too observed in one of their hobbies. Nightmare always feared the first one, though he was rarely their target. He smiled slightly at the times he had to break a ‘fight’ up between them and Horror and Killer. Luckily, both Dust and Cross knew not to take the prank too far, so even Killer and Horror rarely had that much against it. Until they were their target, of course.

Who would kidnap them? Many monsters from around the Multiverse knew to their existence, even more did not, but those that did usually left them alone. He had considered if the Star Sans’ had anything to do with this. He knew none of them wanted to kill them, but would they kidnap them? He knew they wanted all of his gang members back in their Au where they ‘belonged’. Maybe they had them and now tried to figure out how to take their ability to travel between the Multiverse away?

What made Nightmare doubt that theory was Horror. He did not know much about Ink and Blue, but he knew Dream, and Dream would never leave anyone the way Horror was. Horror’s condition was fatal, and had Killer not found him, he would most likely be dead now. Even if the Star Sans’ had attacked him, they would never leave him like that. If they suspected he was dead, they would search the lake to be sure. He could not imagine the Star Sans’ having anything to do with this, but who else could?

Horror’s description of the Sans did not remind Nightmare of anyone. Maybe this Sans was a new member of the Star Sans’? If he were, why was he there without them? He’s sure if any of the Star Sans’ encountered one of his gang members, they would tell the others. The Sans was not with the Star Sans’, Horror would have recognized them anywhere, but with a Papyrus.

Nightmare had no idea about any of it. He did know he was getting tired of not doing anything. Maybe he should go back to the Au and see if he missed anything? He doubted it, but it may be worth a try. For now he needed to keep waiting, he did not want to leave Killer and Horror just yet.

***

Cross hated being defenseless. Heck, he hated it when he’s opponents were defenseless. The fight would be over a lot faster, and while that sometimes was welcomed, Cross enjoyed practicing his skills to be a better fighter. It did not require a lot out of him against a defenseless opponent. He wishes Justice and Fairness felt the same way.

He was not sure what he expected when the door opened and in stepped his kidnappers. They started off by asking if he’ll talk or not, which Cross answered by not saying anything. He have felt a little fear when they threatened him yesterday, but they’d given him the whole night to remember exactly why he could not give them anything. He would never betray Nightmare or the gang, no matter what. He could not afford to show fear. The gang was searching for him, he was sure of that. He just needed to hold on until then, no matter what they did to him.

He really should have expected the punch when all he gave them was silence. He managed to keep quiet, though he was not sure if he succeeded in keeping a natural expression. That had hurt, mostly because he was not prepared for it. When all he did was staring at them, the Papyrus grabbed him by one of his legs, holding him upside down. Cross was confused for a moment when nothing happened. He could feel his magic slowly gather in his skull, and it tickled him a little. He could not stare at either of them from this position, and just looked down at the floor, waiting to be dropped. He listened after Justice, expecting him to come over and beat him, but he could not hear any footstep.

The magic gathering in his skull was starting to make him dizzy. It was not something he could not handle, though it was uncomfortable. Fairness seemed to have become bored as well, or just impatient for still not getting anything out of Cross, and threw him into the wall, the same wall that kept him chained. Cross felt the chain hit his sternum. He barely had time to feel the pain from the hit as Fairness started to beat him. Cross did hiss sometimes when he felt the beating of his earlier injuries, but otherwise managed to not say anything.

After a while, Fairness let him be. “READY TO TALK YET?” he asked.

Cross still just stared at him. It took everything in him not to glare, but he did not need to make them even angrier than he already did by remaining silent. When Fairness prepared to punch him again, Justice stopped him.

“Easy, Fair, let him be for now,” he said, walking up to the both of them. He squatted down in front of Cross, looking him the eye sockets. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. Do remember though, it will only get worse from here on out. Next time I’ll let Fair continue for as long as he wants, and he can keep going for hours. If I were you, I’ll start talking.”

“Does that mean you’re a quitter?” asked Cross.

Justice frowned and punched Cross between the eye sockets, sending him backwards. “I might help Fairness if you’re gonna act like that.”

Cross kept his face hidden as the two of them left. When he was sure they were gone, he groaned, both of the pain and what he said. So much for not making them angry. The comment got out of him before he could think about it. He sat back up and looked himself over; other than the pain it seemed like they let him go easily. As far as he could see, he had no marks on him. He sighed a little in relief of that. If he was lucky, the pain would not last too long. He felt the area between his eye sockets and hissed as he did so. He may have a small mark there, which was not a good sign.

Fairness had punched him a lot longer than Justice had, yet Justice was the only one leaving a mark on him. That meant Fairness had either been holding back, or Justice was the one he really needed to be careful around. By how they acted during the battle, he knew Fairness had been holding back. He was not sure why they took it so slow, but he knew it would not be long before they would not hold back anymore. He hoped the gang would find him soon.


	6. Chapter 6

The next couple of days none from the gang would have minded if they never happened.

Back at the mansion, just as they thought Horror was getting better, he one day woke up with a very high fever. It made him even more confused than he already was. Sweat would glide down his skull, yet he still shivered under the layer of blankets. Because of the fever, he no longer had as many blankets as before. He did not have an appetite and refused to eat anything. It came to the point where Nightmare and Killer had to force him to eat something, which in his fevered mind Horror believed was an attack. Luckily for Nightmare and Killer, he barely had any energy to fight against them. He slept most of the day, many times suffering from a fevered dream. They could never understand what he said, but by how he turned around they knew it was not pleasant. Nightmare tried to make the nightmares go away, and while he always succeeded, it would not be long before a new one started. In the end Nightmare had no choice but to leave him alone, as he would end up using too much energy otherwise.

Nightmare had used his time researching the Au his gang was attacked in, still with no luck. The citizens had started repairing the park, which was none of Nightmare’s concern. He later decided to contact Error to hear how he was doing, and the Destroyer told him he had not stopped searching since he left, but so far he had not found anything. Nightmare then decided to try and search Aus as well, and told Killer he could contact him any time.

Killer, meanwhile, had mostly taken care of Horror. Most of the time he could bring him out of his fevered confusion, but there were those times Horror looked at him as if he was a stranger. Luckily he was in no condition to fight, and would quickly fall back to sleep before anything could happen. It was tough, and Killer found he missed having Nightmare around, but would not call him just because he was lonely. There was not much for him to do as he needed to be nearby in case Horror needed something, and he felt pretty useless while doing so. He stayed away for knives all this time, knowing that would not help the situation.

None of them had any idea what Dust and Cross went through.

Cross would always remain silent when Justice and Fairness came into the room. They had brought a chair with them one time, strapped him to it and slapped him across the face. That happened at least once a day now. His skull would feel numb after those episodes, blood coming out of his mouth and nose hole. Once it even came out from one of his eye sockets. They’ve also hold him up against the wall and punch all over his bones, this time leaving plenty of marks. It’s gotten to the point where Cross could no longer keep the screams of pain inside. Still he did not say anything to them. When nightfall arrived and the last beating for the day passed, Cross would wrap his arms around himself, letting a moment of weakness wash over him as he cried into his clothes. The pain was getting to him. His whole body hurt and he was tired, but he was afraid to fall asleep. In these moments of silent, he would look back to his days at the mansion. His body could not escape, but his mind could. He would remember all the happy times he had with each one from the gang, and the even greater ones where they were all together. It gave him hope. It gave him a reason to keep going. It reminded him why he could not tell them anything. He’d rather die than leading these skeletons to his family.

Dust, unlike Cross, would talk during his torture, though not about what the kidnappers wanted. He too was being beating, most of the time inside the cell. Sometimes they took him out and chained him to a hook with the chain outside the prison, forcing him to keep his arms up. They let him stand there for hours while watching, sometimes beating him, other times saying things they hoped would help break him. During and after the beating, Dust did not say much, but he could sometimes come up with a pun, which the Papyrus would groan about. Dust never noticed how the Sans would smile just for a second when he said a pun. Just like Cross, Dust was left alone at night, but unlike Cross he had no problems in getting some sleep. He had tried to stay awake the first night, but saw no reason to fight his body’s need for a rest. He had woken up with the hope him being kidnapped had just been a bad dream, only to wake up and face the reality.

Neither Dust nor Cross got anything to eat. None of them still did not have any clue if they were the only one that had been captured, but they were both pretty sure Horror was not there, which they were grateful for. If anyone would break because of lack of food, it would be him. They knew Horror was strong, but everyone from the gang knew to his weakness to food. If he was denied access to it or had no way in getting it, he would snap.

Sometimes they wished someone from the gang was there with them. It was very selfish, but they missed having someone with them, someone to help keeping their hope up and remind them they were not alone. They both felt bad for feeling that, as neither wanted any of the others to go through this, yet they could not help the feeling. The longer time went on, the more beating they got. It slowly made them lose hope the gang would find them in time.

***

Dust had not been able to come up with any puns today. His whole body hurt and he was sure he had sprained his ankle at some point, though he could not remember when. This time when Justice and Fairness entered his cell, they brought some tools with them. Dust was puzzled when Fairness hammered a nail in the farthest wall. When he had made sure the nail would stay, he grabbed Dust and with the chain from the handcuffs, hang him up on the wall like he was a painting, his feet dangling in the air. Dust did not register this at first, but when his arms started to burn in pain and he could not bring them down, he released what they had done. The kidnappers smiled as they left him like that.

Dust used the time to try and get free from the nail. It would mean he would fall to the ground, but that was better than staying like this. No matter how much he tried, he could not get the chain free from the nail, and he gave up in the end. It was using too much of his already spent energy, and it gave more pressure to his arms. He sighed and looked down, hoping he could fall asleep.

The kidnappers then went up to Cross.

Cross had been in one of his memories as they entered. He wanted to stay in his mind longer, but did not want to show how he kept going and opened his eye sockets. He expected to be tied to the chair again, but Fairness grabbed the collar of his shirt, holding him up.

“TELL ME WHERE YOUR HIDEOUT IS!” he demanded.

Cross did not say anything. He was not sure he could now after all the screaming he’d done the last couple of days. He shook his head; he had nothing to say.

Fairness growled and threw him against the wall. Cross groaned as his body hit the floor. He did not stay there for long. Fairness grabbed him again, asked the same question. When he got the same answer, he dragged Cross back to the chair, but did not tie him to it. Cross’ mind was too fuzzy to notice. Fairness asked him the same question, but Cross did not even look at him anymore. He slapped Cross across the face, hard enough for him to be knocked backwards and almost making the chair trip over.

“WHAT’S THE GANG’S WEAKNESSES?”

Cross blinked a couple of times. The slap made him so dizzy he barely understood what was being said. Fairness had at this point lost his patience and punched Cross hard on the top of his skull. This time the chair could not hold the blow and fell, taking Cross down with it. Justice, who had been watching on the sidelines, was confused when no sound came out of Cross at that blow. It did not make sense for him to be quiet when he had screamed the last couple of days. He heard his brother growl again in impatience.

“Hold on a second, Fair,” Justice said.

He was relieved when Fairness did as he was told. As Justice looked down at Cross, the first thing he noticed was the other’s closed eye sockets. He shook the other’s shoulders a couple of times, even punched him, though not as hard as he normally did, but Cross gave him no reaction.

“Welp, you knocked him out, Fair,” he said, looking back at his brother. “You need to be more careful. They cannot talk if they’re out cold.”

“SORRY, BUT HE WAS GETTING REALLY ANNOYING,” Fairness said.

“I know. I understand you’re frustrated, but like I said; they cannot talk if they’re unconscious.” Justice dragged Cross back to the chains at the wall, trapping him again. “Let’s hope he wakes up soon. Meanwhile, I think we need to try something else if we want them to talk.”

Fairness nodded, already getting excited. It was a shame they could not do it already, as one of their prisoners were now unconscious and the other they’ve just been with. They wanted Dust to hang in the cell for at least an hour before going back. Despite that he liked where this was going.

***

Dust woke up to the familiar sound of the cell door being opened. His arms hurt for holding his weight. It hurt him so much he forgot how the rest of his body felt. He felt weak, he could not deny that, but he refused to show it. He had no idea how long he had been out. It felt rather long as he did not feel as tired as he did before. He would not be surprised if the restlessness would soon return. His body needed to heal, and he had no way to do that.

“How’re you doing?” Justice asked.

Dust considered for a moment if he should keep quiet or say something. No matter what he said, he knew they would beat him, even if he did tell them what they wanted. He may end up say something that would make them mad and punch him harder, but Dust had never been known to be the quietest member of the gang.

He smiled. If it was not for the marks covering his bones, he would look like nothing was wrong. “Oh, ya know, just _hangin’_ out,” he said.

He noticed Justice tried to keep a smile from forming and heard Fairness groan in annoyance. Well, it was common for a Papyrus to not have a sense of humor. His own had been the same way, though his reactions could sometimes be even funnier than the pun. Dust expected everything to go the same way as all the other days he’d been there. They would beat him up to the point he would almost pass out, all the while keep asking the same questions. It was starting to become annoying how they could not accept he was not going to tell them anything.

This time it started out as all the other times; both Justice and Fairness punched him while asking questions. At first they let him hang where he was, but at some point Fairness lost patience and grabbed Dust to throw him against the wall. Dust crumpled together as both of them started to kick him. He was not sure if they still asked him the same questions. The kicks sounded loud and his own groans of pain overshadowed any other sound he might be able to hear. He stayed in the same position all the while, trying his best to protect his skull and SOUL.

When the kicking subsided Dust was lifted back up on the hook, his arms yet again supporting his weigh. If he had to be honest, he preferred the kicking over this. He had no idea it would be so painful for his arms to support his weigh. He tried to breath to keep calm, taking as normal breaths as possible. He did not succeed that much.

He thought they were going to leave him alone again, but he did not hear their retrieving footsteps. He kept his eye sockets closed, just in case they were keeping an eye on him. He was not sure he could hide the pain in them. His body hurt even more, and he was becoming angry at it. He suspected his left eye light would be flaming if he opened it, and he could not show any emotion. He could not show how much they were affecting him.

He heard the kidnappers talk to each other, or maybe him? He was too busy trying to keep calm to understand what they were saying either way. If they were talking to him, he knew they were probably just asking about the hideout’s location again, and he was slowly getting tired of that question.

Dust could not keep his eye sockets closed as he felt the blade of a knife enter his humerus. The shock that came from it made him cry out in pain, blood slowly glided down from the humerus underneath his hoodie. The cry of pain got louder as the knife was being twisted while still being stuck in him. The knife was then taken out again, and Dust finally looked at the kidnappers, noticing Justice holding a new bloody knife.

Justice smiled. “Ya sure ya have nothing to say?” he asked. “It’s only gotta get worse.”

Dust remained silent, trying to appear natural. He could not keep quiet as the knife was struck into him again.

***

“I thought I might find you in here.”

Killer turned around and saw Horror standing in the doorway, having a hand on the door for support. “Horror?! You shouldn’t be up,” he said.

Horror smiled. “Well, I woke up and could not find you anywhere,” he said. “I had to make sure you’re okay.”

“You’re still sick.”

“The fever’s broken… well, almost. I’m mostly just sore now,” Horror said, walking into the room. “It’s quiet without them.”

Killer kept an eye on Horror all the way, just in case the other was lying and could not keep his balance. When he was satisfied, he looked away again and nodded. They were in Cross’ room, close to his desktop. The room looked the same. It was the most cleaned one of them all, as Cross was the best of them to keep his room clean. On the desktop was his latest drawing.

“It is,” Killer agreed. “But… we’ll find them. Somehow.”

Horror did not answer right away. “How?” he asked.

“I dunno,” Killer admitted. “But we’ll find them. Nightmare and Error are searching for them. If anyone can find them, it would be them.”

“… The Multiverse is big, Killer. I bet it will take them years to search it. By then, Dust and Cross might be dead… if they’re not already.”

At that Killer looked back at Horror, who was now the one looking away. “We’ll find them, Horror,” he repeated.

“… How?” Horror repeated. “We have no leads other than my description, and we both know that is close to nothing… I should have done something.”

“Horror,” Killer said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “There was nothing you could have done to prevent that. Those guys attacked you, right? They knew who you were. They’d sought you out. You did what you could, you all did… And honestly, I’m kinda glad they threw you in the lake, because if they hadn’t, we would have no lead at all. We do not have much to go on, but even if we had nothing, we would still search. We’ll find them, Horror.”

Horror remained silent, letting the words flow over him. He still believed he could have done something to prevent it, but Killer was right about the lead thing. Had he been captured as well, what would Nightmare and Killer think had happened to them?

Killer frowned as he noticed the sweat slowly gliding down from Horror’s skull. He placed a hand on the top of his skull. “You call this an almost broken fever?” he asked, though he was smiling. “You’re burning up, Horror.”

Horror shrugged, now feeling more tired than when he entered the room. Killer sighed, grabbed him and teleported them both back to the living room. Horror did not even have to be told to lie back down on the couch, and it did not take long before he fell asleep again. Killer placed a blanket over him. He hoped Nightmare would return soon.

***

Justice was patrolling around the house he long since called home, or rather he walked around the house once and then went back inside, walked around there and then found some place he could relax. He saw no point in these patrols, but his brother thought they were necessary and it was easier for him to just do it than try and say otherwise. When he found a place he was sure his brother would not discover his slacking off, he remembered they left one of their captives unconscious and had not checked up on him since. With a sigh, he rose up from the floor and walked towards the room they had deemed a prison for the time being.

Justice knew from the many rumors how strong Nightmare’s gang was, yet he had hoped they would not have been that hard to break. They were stronger than he thought, and he discovered there was some kind of relationship between them. When he heard about them, he imagined Nightmare’s gang only worked together. He believed they did not care about each other and only fought together to appear stronger. Now, he no longer believed that. The two they have captured would surely have talked if they did not care about the others. But that should not have surprised him, not after what he saw during their fight with three of them. While Justice only fought one of them, he noticed how the two others worked together against his brother; blocking attacks, warning and helping each other. And while he fought Horror, he noticed how he would sometimes look towards the others. Not to mention how he used his last energy to try and protect them instead of running away.

It was clear they cared for each other, and Justice was not sure if they could use that or not. He knew it meant they needed to find out where Nightmare’s hideout is, otherwise their own hideout may be discovered first. Justice knew Nightmare was strong, he was considered a God by some monsters, so they needed the element of surprise if they wanted to defeat him.

As Justice was just outside the room they kept Cross in, he could not help but notice how quiet it was. Cross had remained silent many times, but never this quiet. When he was outside the room, Justice would usually pick up the sound of the chains as Cross tried to find a more comfortable position. The marks all the beatings had left him meant he could not sit in the same position for too long without getting uncomfortable.

Feeling the need to check up on that, Justice opened the door into the room and silently cursed. Cross was in the exact same position they left him in, still unconscious. He moved over to him, waiting to see of his presence alone would give some kind of reaction from the other, but Cross remained the same. Justice then tried to shake him to get a reaction, even pressing hard on one of his marks from the beatings, still Cross remained motionless.

“Dammit Fair, how hard did you hit him?” he whispered, squatting down next to Cross and looked him over.

At first glance nothing seemed to be wrong. Cross did have many marks covering his skull, but those did not seem serious enough to cause any damage. When Justice took a closer look, he cursed again. Small cracks had formed at the top of Cross’ skull, clearly the cause for him not waking up. There was not that many cracks and none of them were that big. Dry blood surrounded each of the cracks, and Justice cannot believe he failed to notice them the day before. While the cracks were not that big, they could be serious if left untreated. Normally, Justice would never even have considered helping someone like Cross, but he needed him alive and conscious. He still feared they would get nothing out of Dust, and believed Cross was their best shot at getting answers. He could not talk if he remained unconscious, or if he was dead.

Sighing, Justice got up to fetch a first aid kit. Since Cross was not awake, healing food would do him no good, meaning his only chance was to recover from the wounds. As neither he nor his brother was capable of healing others, they needed to do it another way. Reappearing with the first aid kit, Justice sat down next to Cross and got to work. He cleaned the cracks as best as he could. He was satisfied when no blood replaced what he just removed, but frowned as Cross still did not react. He knew it had been a little naïve to think that already, but he had never been told he was a patient skeleton. He could be lazy, at the same time if he wanted something to happen, it needed to happen as soon as possible. Next he found the special bandages covered with healing magic and placed them the needed places on the skull. Depending on how serious the cracks were, the bandages should be able to heal them. Justice was skeptical, but it was the only thing they had. Lastly he covered the skull with a gauze roll, using almost all of it to make sure it stayed in place. As he finished up, his brother popped his head into the room.

“THERE YOU ARE. I’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU FOR SEVERAL- WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” he said.

Justice glared at him, and Fairness was not sure if it were by anger or disappointment, and it made him shrink back a little. Justice loosed the glare, not wanting to make his brother feel terrible. “You hit him too hard, Fair,” he sighed. “He wasn’t woken up since you knocked him out.”

“… HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT? MAYBE HE’S FAKING.”

“He’s not reacting to anything I do. I know he has some training from his own Au, but he should not be able to fake it that well,” Justice explained as he packed the items back in the first aid kit. “You cracked his skull, Fair. I’m not sure he will wake up from that with just the help from the bandages.”

“SO WHAT? WE STILL HAVE THE OTHER ONE. WHY WASTE RESOURCES ON HIM?”

Justice glared at him again. “Fairness, Dust has not only Determination but also Perseverance. If you think _I_ am enduring, you’ll be shocked how _he_ will be. You’ve noticed how he treats this as a joke, right? He’s not doing that just because it’s part of his personality. He will not be easy to break.”

Fairness remained silent, keeping his focus on the bandage now covering Cross’ skull.

Justice sighed again. “That does not mean we can’t,” he said, gaining his brother’s attention again. “I don’t believe it will be easy, and I kinda hope this one will wake up, but we need to take it a step up if we wanna break Dust. We’ve wasted enough time as it is.”

Fairness nodded. He still felt the need to apologize for this. “I’M SORRY.”

“It’s okay. I know you’re frustrated, so am I, but we cannot risk this happening to Dust as well. We need him awake.”


	7. Chapter 7

The next couple of days looked like each other. Dust had at this point forgotten how long he had been captured. The kidnappers now rarely beat him up anymore, mostly tortured him with knives. They would sometimes put pressure on the wounds or beat them. At one point they had even taken some of the chains and stuck it into a wound, leaving it like that. Dust considered whether or not to take it out, and in the end decided to let it be. He could not heal it anyway and he got used to it being there to the point he knew it would hurt a lot more to remove it. His days were the same, switching between being tortured and sleeping. Sometimes he woke up and could not remember where he was. It did not take long for him to remember.

Unbeknownst to him, the kidnappers checked up on Cross every time they left him. Cross had shown no signs of waken up. Justice had removed the bandages the second day to see how it looked. The cracks were still there, though not as long. New blood covered the cracks, showing how annoyed it had been at the healing bandages. All the healing magic on the bandages had been spent, and Justice and Fairness decided to not replace them. Cross should have showed signs of waken up, even if the wounds were not fully healed. They did wrap it up again and left him alone, but none of them believed he would wake up again. They started to wonder what they should do with him now.

Back at the mansion, Killer and Horror had no other choice but to wait. They still had heard no word from either Nightmare or Error, and again they considered to contact them, but decided against it. Horror’s fever was fully broken now, and he only suffered from soreness from the attack. He was starting to get annoyed by feeling weak all the time, and with the knowledge of knowing he could do nothing to help. He and Killer had talked about making their own search party one evening. It would take them a long time to search one Au, but at least it would make them do something. Sitting around and waiting was starting to get to them. In the end they decided to wait. Horror was still not fully healed, and Killer did not trust him to stay if he went out on his own.

Today started out like any other day. Killer woke up with the thought of just staying in bed all day. It did not really matter if he waited here than some other place in the mansion. If it were not because Horror was here, he would have done just that. He still stayed for another five minutes before pulling himself together and get up. As he got clothed, he looked over at a nearby chair where his hoodie hung. It had always been a comfort for him to wear it, lately because of a whole other reason. Killer sighed as he looked down at his humerus. The newest scar was not even made by him, having been made by some random monster in an Au. He did forget about it many times, especially when the rest of the gang never mentioned it. They all knew how he would react if they started, and he was thankful they just left it alone. He had caught Horror looking towards his humerus a couple of times, no words were shared between them when he got caught. Putting the hoodie on, Killer forgot about his self-made scars and went to find Horror. His scars were not their biggest problem for the moment; to him they never were.

Killer walked towards Horror’s room. Ever since the fever broke, Horror once again spent his nights in his own room. When Killer knocked on the door and received no answer, he at first thought Horror was still asleep, but felt the need to check. He carefully opened the door and sighed; Horror was not there. He was probably somewhere in the mansion, Killer reassured. Still, for someone who wanted to fully heal, he was not very good at staying still. Closing the door again, Killer made his way to the kitchen, where he found Horror. Horror was sitting on the kitchen counter closest to the window, looking outside. This worried Killer a little, as Horror normally hated when someone sat on the kitchen counter.

“Hey,” Killer said, walking up next to Horror.

“Hey,” Horror answered, not taking his gaze away from the window.

It got quiet between them. It was not an uncomfortable silence. They were both rather tense for having to wait so long, and none of them had anything reassuring to say to each other. They knew how the other felt, as they felt the same way. It was a frustrating situation they now find themselves in, and the not knowing was slowly killing them.

“Ya know, I can’t count how many times I’ve watched Cross train just outside this window,” Horror said, still looking outside.

“Really?” Killer knew to how Cross was the one of them who trained the most, he did not know he did it outside the kitchen.

“Sometimes, yeah. I’ve never understood how he could train so long. One day I think I started to understand.”

“How?”

“He enjoys it. Just like he enjoys drawing, he loves to train. I don’t think he even realizes that. I’ve many times seen him train while being in here, and while he sometimes looks about ready to pass out, he still looks so satisfied every time he completes whatever stunt he’s doing… I can actually imagine him out there right now.”

Killer was not sure what to say. He thought about if he should assure him they would find both Dust and Cross, but that promise seemed to disappear slowly with each day. They had no idea if they were even still alive. That thought really scared Killer, and he tried not to think too much about it. Why would anyone take them just to kill them? He could only imagine what Dust and Cross must be going through. Why would anyone kidnap them in the first place?

“Sometimes Dust joins him,” Horror continued. “I don’t think they realize I can see them from here, not that it matters. They work great together. They can give each other a hard time out there, but at the same time be ready to have the other’s back… I’ve always enjoyed watching them when they train. Dust may pretend he hates it, but he secretly enjoys it, probably because of how ecstatic Cross can be about it.” Horror looked down. “I miss them.”

Killer jumped up to sit next Horror. He leaned slightly against the other, being careful in case Horror was still sore. “So do I,” he confessed.

Horror leaned closer to Killer, grateful for his presence. “What if they’re…?”

“We’ll still find them, no matter if they’re dead or alive,” Killer said. “But until I see their piles of dust, I believe they’re still alive. We’ll never stop searching for them.”

Horror nodded, not sure if he had anything to add to that. Again it became quiet between them. Horror would sometimes swift position. So far he had not found one position that would not bring him a little pain from his still sore bones, but the pain was not unbearable and mostly just annoying. He had been through worse. He looked over at Killer, only to see his eye sockets were closed. He doubted Killer had falling asleep, but he still did not want to disturb him. Looking down, Horror looked at the other’s humerus hidden beneath the hoodie, knowing exactly what it was hiding. He knew there was a lot of hidden scars, some fresher than others. Horror would never understand how Killer found cutting as a solution to his problems. He wanted to understand, he really did. He just could not. He never judged Killer for it, and he looked away before Killer caught him staring at them.

“Welp, we should probably get the day started,” Killer said, jumping down the kitchen counter. “Are ya hungry?”

Horror shook his skull. “I’d rather have the day to just end if it’s gonna be like all the other days,” he replied.

“Come on, Horror. You need it, and you’ve never been one to turn down food.”

Horror sighed. He was hungry, but he did not want anything. He still jumped down the kitchen counter as well, knowing Killer was right. Besides, his body needed it if he wanted to heal faster. While Killer looked what they had in the fridge, a sound coming from the living room caught them both off guard. Sharing a look with each other, Killer and Horror both went to check what the course of the sound could be.

“Nightmare!” they both shouted.

Nightmare stood in the center, swaying a little from side to side. He looked the same, except for the exhausting clearly shown in his eye light. If Nightmare showed sign of being tired, he was really exhausted. At the sound of his name, Nightmare noticed the both of them. Hiding his exhausting as much as he could, he smiled at them.

“Heya, you two. Just wanted to check up on you,” he said, looking closely at Horror. “How’re you doing?”

“Uh, mostly just sore now. The fever’s broken,” Horror answered. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just tired… and frustrated,” Nightmare admitted with a sigh. “So far I’ve found nothing. You haven’t heard from Error, have you?”

Killer and Horror shook their skull, making Nightmare sigh again.

“Didn’t think so,” Nightmare said. “Well, I guess I’ll go search for them again. They must be out there somewhere.”

Killer and Horror shared a look with each other. It was obvious Nightmare was exhausted, he looked about ready to pass out. When he turned around as if he wanted to walk instead of teleport, they did not stop him. They knew if Nightmare did not want to be stopped, they could not stop him. They just hoped he would realize soon he needed to rest as well. Still, it felt wrong to just let him go without trying to stop him.

“Uh, Boss, ya sure ya shouldn’t take a break first?” Killer said.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Nightmare-,” Horror started, but stopped midsentence as Nightmare fell to the ground. Both he and Killer ran up to him, asking if he was okay, but got no answer. Nightmare had passed out, no longer able to fight his body’s need for rest. Working together, Killer and Horror carried him up to the couch and laid him down, covering him with a blanket. Seeing as there was nothing more they could do, they went back to the kitchen, but stayed near the door in case Nightmare woke up.

Killer later contacted Error, knowing if Nightmare was exhausted he might be as well, as Error had searched longer than Nightmare had.

***

“SHOULDN’T WE JUST KILL HIM? HE’S OF NO USE TO US THIS WAY.”

“I dunno, Fair. I kinda still hope he’ll wake up.”

Despite that hope, Justice had to admit he doubted it. He and his brother were once again in the room they kept Cross, having just been down in the dungeon to once again try to get Dust to talk with no luck. Cross still showed no signs of waking up, and doing a CHECK on him did not help one bit, as it only told them what they already knew. Fairness was right; they could not use him this way. But Justice was afraid it would be a mistake to kill him. Maybe they could use him to break Dust?

They had kept Dust and Cross separate to isolate them. Justice had also been afraid if they were kept together, they would find some way to escape. He felt it safer to keep them apart. But if the gang truly cared for each other, maybe Cross’ condition could be used to break Dust. Should they try and kill Cross in front of Dust? It could give them the desired result and break Dust, it may also snap him to the point he would become too violent to handle. If that happened, they could not use Dust as well and may also have to kill him. Then this would have been a waste of time, but at the same time they successfully got rid of two members from Nightmare’s gang, so it would not be a total waste. Deciding it would not hurt to try, Justice asked Fairness to grab Cross. Together, they once again walked towards the dungeon.

Dust had crumpled together in one of the far corners in his prison cell, dealing with the aftermaths of the latest torture. The kidnappers had taken the chain out of the wound they had left the day before, and Dust could still feel that pain. Blood tickled him as it slowly made its way down his bones from all the cuts he had received. He tried to fall asleep, but the pain kept him awake.

When he heard the sound of footsteps, he straightened up as much as he could and tried to appear in control. It was not normal for the kidnappers to return already, or maybe he had fallen asleep and just could not remember how much time had passed. Whatever the case, Dust feared what they would put him through this time. He did not like to admit it, but he felt like he was starting to break. He misses the rest of the gang, and the pain from the daily tortures was becoming too much for him. Maybe the kidnappers had finally had enough and would kill him. Dust would not mind that too much.

As the footsteps stopped near his prison cell, he looked up. His vision was still blurry for the stabbing he had endured, so it was hard for him to see them clearly, but he recognized their shapes. He heard one of them speak, but it sounded like complete nonsense to Dust. He could not make out what they were saying to him.

Dust closed his eye sockets at the sound of the prison door opening. That usually meant another round of torture was coming his way, and he handle it better if he tried to imagine being anywhere but there. He opened them again in confusion when they did not grab him. Instead the sound of something being thrown into the cell could be heard, closely followed by the well known sound of the prison door being closed again. The kidnappers talked again, and then left him alone.

Dust blinked a couple of times, trying to indentify whatever were in the prison cell with him. It was something black and white, and Dust thought for a moment if they left some kind of dog with him to attack him. Instead the lump stayed on the ground. Dust considered to just lie back down, but he needed to know if this was something threatening. Forcing his body to move, he crawled closer to the lump in the middle of the prison cell. As he got closer, he recognized it as another monster. It was only when he got close enough to remove the long scarf from the other’s face he finally knew who it was.

“Cross?!” he rasped out.

Cross did not react to him, scaring Dust even more. He carefully tried to wake him, noticing all the marks on the visible bones. What worried him the most was how the top of Cross’ skull was covered in a bandage. He considered if he should remove it, but it probably did more good where it was. Dust carefully dragged Cross over to his corner, having seen it as his safe heaving when the kidnappers were not there.

Dust felt tears form in his eye sockets. “Please, Cross, please wake up,” he begged. Cross remained unconscious, and Dust held him closer as he cried into his shoulder, still begging for him to wake up.


	8. Chapter 8

“He still hasn’t woken up?”

From the end of the couch, Killer looked up, noticing Horror. “Nope,” he answered, putting the book down he had been trying to read. It was hard to concentrate on the words when the real world’s worries wouldn’t leave him alone. He had tried to read the same page five times now. “But I don’t think we should worry too much about that. He did search non-stop for five days.”

“Yeah, I know. I just want him to wake up. The waiting is killing me,” Horror sighed.

Killer looked Horror up and down as the other moved next to him. Horror’s wounds had healed nicely, most of them were just scars now. He could imagine those that still were not healed brought some discomfort, but he doubted it was as painful as it once was. Still, he preferred Horror to take it easy, especially when he heard a grunt as Horror sat down.

“You should still take it easy, Horror,” Killer said.

“I’m tired of doing nothing, Killer,” Horror said. “Dust and Cross had been gone for what, 12 days, and we’re no step closer at finding them. This is getting ridiculous.”

Killer sighed and ushered for Horror to follow him into the kitchen, hoping it would be far enough away for not risking waking Nightmare. “Listen, I know the situation is bad, I feel the same way, Horror, but we cannot just go blindly around. Searching the Multiverse was a bad idea, but what else could we do? Nightmare and Error at least have a chance at finding them that way, the two of us would have no chance at all. I know it’s hard, but we can’t do nothing but wait. And you’ve still not recovered, Horror.”

“So what?” Horror growled. “It’s nothing serious and will not hold us back. We should do something, Killer!”

“Like what? What can we do, Horror? Do ya want us to search blindly every Au there exist?”

“Isn’t that what Error and Nightmare have done?”

“ _They_ can do it without being seen, I doubt we can, and we cannot risk that attention. If the Star Sans’ are being notified, we’ll waste time fighting them and may end up getting hurt, and then we’ll be no help at all. I know you hate it, so do I, but for the moment we can do nothing but wait. And you, specifically, should not force your body to move when it still needs to rest.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not, Horror. You still need to heal, and you should use this time to do exactly that. If… _When_ we find Dust and Cross, we may very well have to fight those kidnappers, and you would be of no use if you’re still in pain. You’ll bring the rest of us in danger if you say you’re okay when you’re really not.”

Horror chuckled darkly, his red eye light shone just a little more. “And that should come from you,” he said, tone dark.

Killer blinked a couple of times, not liking where this was going. Without warning, Horror grabbed one of his arms, stretched it upwards and pulled his sleeves down, revealing the hidden scars, including the fresh ones he made before this whole mess started. Killer widened his eye sockets and tried to pull free from Horror’s grip, but Horror was not letting him go.

“How many times haven’t you said you were okay while making these behind closed doors?” Horror asked. “How many times haven’t we had to cover your back because you became too lost in your own thoughts? How many times haven’t you gotten hurt because you were in pain but insisted you were fine? I’m not blaming you for any of this, Killer, but don’t give me advice you cannot follow yourself.”

Killer was speechless, having no idea what he could say to that. Horror was right.

When he was getting no reply, Horror sighed and let Killer’s arm go. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I know you’re dealing with your demons and this is the way you cope with it, I just-.”

“You’re right.”

“Huh?”

“You’re right,” Killer repeated. “I’ve… I’ve putting you guys through a lot because of my insecurities, and I’m sorry for that. I… I can’t explain it, and I really wanna stop, but… I cannot.” He smiled slightly. “But I do mean it when I say I want you to rest. I’ve never encountered these skeleton monsters, but if they were able to kidnap Dust and Cross and almost kill you, then we need you when we find them… And you’re right, we need to come up with another plan, because the one we have now is not working. But for the moment, let’s wait until Nightmare wakes up, okay?”

Horror nodded. “I’m still sorry.”

Killer wrapped his arms around him. “It’s okay,” he said. “I know you’re frustrated, and I don’t mind be on the receiving end of that.”

Horror hugged him back. “You shouldn’t be, though.”

***

Dust could not help but be worried. It was daylight once again, light coming through the small opening in the prison cell. Normally, Dust would have the kidnappers beaten the crap out of him by now, but today they have not showed up at all. It made him wonder if they were coming up with something else to torture him with, or if they were just going to leave him and Cross to die. He subconsciously held tighter around Cross, which was not easy thanks to the handcuffs. Dust had tried for a little over an hour to wake him before finally given up. He did not like it, but tried to calm down and reason Cross was just tired. He would wake up, Dust was sure of it. He had to wake up.

He did wonder why they were being put together now. It did not take him long to figure out they took Cross the same time they took him, but he could not understand why they had not locked Cross down here as well. They did after all have six prison cells in this small dungeon, there was plenty of room. He had a sinking feeling they were planning something.

Dust sighed as he looked back down at Cross. His clothes were torn and dirty. Dust had felt a sudden anger the first time he noticed all the marks covering Cross’ bones. Out of all of them, he felt Cross deserved this the least. Cross was the most innocent of them all, though many would probably agree that did not mean a lot for a bunch of Dark Sans’. Cross had killed a lot of monsters and humans, but he was the one who did it the least, and the one who most hated to do it. If he killed someone, he always made sure it was done as fast as possible. No matter what, he did not want anyone to suffer a slow dead, and everyone from the gang accepted that, even Nightmare, who wanted that suffering to get stronger. Even if Cross did deserve this somehow, Dust would still kill anyone who dared to hurt him.

He had not slept that whole night. Though he knew Cross could not hear him, he still talked to him. Talked about whatever came to mind, mostly what they usually did back at the mansion. He was not sure if he did it in hopes that Cross would wake up or if to keep calm. As a result of that, his voice was even hoarser than before, but he had not cared about that for a long time. It did come to a point where he got a coughing fit, and only then did he take a break from all the talking.

He looked down at Cross again, only to see a pair of one white and one red eye lights blinked back up at him. Dust widened his eye sockets, blinked several times to reassure it was not an illusion. Cross was actually looking at him! Cross was awake!

“Cross?” he said, coughing again for having to use his voice already. “Cross, you there?”

Cross blinked at him. He was very confused. He did not understand what was happening, or where he was. He knew the skeleton that was with him, yet he could not recall his name at the moment. The room felt bright somehow, and his body hurt a lot. It could not compare to the pain in his skull. It felt like someone had hit him several times with a pipe.

“Cross, can ya hear me? Cross?”

Cross knew that voice. Despite his thumping skull, he started to make sense of it all. “… Du… Dust?”

Dust smiled. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m here.”

“Dust? What…?” Cross was really confused. He moved his skull slowly to better see the room they were in, but he did not recognize it. He raised one of his hands with the intention to massage his skull, but a loud sound stopped him. Getting even more confused, he looked down at his hands, only to see they were chained together. Cross widened his eye lights, memories of his capture hit him like a train, and he groaned as it increased his headache.

“Easy, Cross. Just take it easy.”

Tears filled Cross’ eye sockets. “Not you too,” he whimpered out. He was not sure if he cried because of the pain or because of the realization Dust was here as well. “You… you cannot be here…”

“Sh, Cross, sh, just take it easy, alright?” Dust tried to calm him down. It was typical for Cross to worry more about him than himself in such a situation, even if Dust felt the same way. It had scared him beyond words when he thought about what Cross most had been through. They had not been easy on him if they knocked him out like that.

Cross leaned away from him to sit better. Again he raised his hand to hold around his skull, this time not getting distracted by the sound of the chains. “Ah, my skull,” he whispered. “How hard did they hit me?” He did not notice the bandage covering most of his skull, or that his hood was no longer covering his skull.

“Hard enough. Just try to relax.”

“Eas’ for you to ‘ay,” Cross mumbled, slurring his words.

Dust could do nothing but look on in sympathy as Cross whimpered in pain. Having his skull against the hard, cold brick wall surely did not help. That was at least something Dust could help with. As careful as he could manage, he gathered Cross’ scarf and folded it together to form a small pillow. He gently lifted Cross’ skull from the wall and placed the scarf against it instead, then placed the skull back. He tried to do it as silently as possible, but it was not easy with both his hands and legs chained together. Cross barely noticed the change, but he did seem to lean more into the scarf than he had done with the wall.

The medical field has never been Dust’s strong point, surely not head injuries. That was Horror’s department. Dust knew enough that it was not a good sign when Cross had been unconscious for who-knows-how long and wake up with such a painful headache. It was hard to study him when he was sitting down and covering half of his skull, but Dust noticed the sweat on his skull, he looked rather pale for a skeleton, and he was starting to slur his words. He felt panic rise in his SOUL as Cross closed his eye sockets.

“Hey, Cross, you gotta stay awake,” he said.

“My skull hurts.”

“Yeah, I know, but ya gotta stay awake.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Open your eye sockets, Cross.”

Cross did as he was told and flinched. “’s bright in here,” he mumbled.

Dust frowned. While the small opening in the wall did allow some sunlight to get into the dungeon, it was not much, and definitely not enough to be too bright. “Sure, but ya gotta keep your eye sockets open.”

“My skull hurts, Dust.”

“I know, Cross, I know.” Dust was at a loss of what to do, and his panic increased again as Cross closed his eye sockets. “Hey, tell me about your latest drawing,” he suggested. “I remember you wanted to find a purple color closer to the one in my eye socket. Are you drawing me?”

“Mmm… drawing?” Cross opened one of his eye sockets in confusion. “Oh, yeah, that drawing…”

“Yeah, _that_ drawing. Can you remember what it was?” Dust had no idea what drawing they were talking about. Cross always kept his drawings a secret until they were done, and Dust could not recall the latest one being of him.

“… Uh, it’s, uh…”

Dust doubted all this thinking helped ease the headache, but at least it kept Cross awake, and Dust felt like that was important. He was not sure he would wake up again if he fell asleep with such a headache.

“It’s… hang on.” Cross massages his skull, the sound of the chains echoing in the cell. “It is about you… you are… what are you doing?” He looked at Dust, as if he held the answer. “Oh, you’re fighting against some kind of monster… I don’t even know… know if that kind exists…”

“What does it look like?”

“Um, kind of like an insect. A… a, um, a beetle. Yeah, it looks like a beetle crossed with a wasp… It’s, uh, body is the wasp and, uh, the head is the beetle… ‘m planning on making it black and blue.”

“Okay, is there a story behind it? Why am I fighting that thing?”

“My skull hurts, Dust.”

“I know, Cross, but it’s important you stay awake.”

“… Why? ‘m tired.”

“I know, but ya gotta stay awake.”

Cross closed his eye sockets again.

“Hey, Cross, stay awake,” Dust said more demanding, snapping his fingers in front of Cross.

Cross whined, but did as he was told. He leaned his skull heavily into his scarf, now noticing it more. It was warm and comfortable, and while it did not ease the headache, it felt nice. It was better than the brick wall. He was still confused as to what was going on. He closed his eye sockets again, but Dust snapping his fingers in front of him made him open them again.

“Stay awake, Cross,” Dust reminded him.

“Mmm… ‘s cold here, Dusty.”

Dust hesitated for a moment before sitting next to Cross, wrapping both arms around him despite how sore they still felt for holding his weigh an entire night some days ago. It was not easy, and Dust was afraid the cold chains would do more harm, but Cross leaned into the touch.

“Hey,” Dust said, shaken him a little. “If we’re gonna sit like this, you gotta promise me to stay awake.”

“’Kay…”

“Good. Back to the drawing, Cross, was there a story to it?”

“Drawing…?” It took some time for Cross to remember. “Oh, yeah, the one with the… insect…”

“That’s it. Tell me more about it.”

“Um… not much to say… not… ain’t finished.”

“You can still talk about it. Ya know… where did you get the inspiration? Why that type of, uh, creature? Which colors you’re gonna use? Stuff like that.”

“Um… I imagine it’s gonna be a dark picture; dark background, dark insect. Stars, my skull hurts.”

“I know, but it’s important you keep talking, Cross.”

“Talking?”

“Yeah, just keep talking about whatever comes to mind.”

Cross breathed out, his eye lights studied the room. “Wha’ happened?”

“You got knocked out,” Dust said, getting even more worried.

“Oh, my skull hurts.”

Dust sighed. “I know,” he said, not sure how much longer he could keep this up. He had nothing that could ease the headache, and he was not sure how long it would take for it to pass by itself, nor if Cross could keep awake for so long. “What are we gonna do?” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

“You’re kinda scaring me, Cross.”

“’m sorry. Don’t mean to.”

“I know you’re not. Will you tell me more of that drawing, or is it a surprise?”

“Drawing? What drawing?”

“The one with the insect.”

“… Oh, that drawing... Insect… you… I’m there too.”

“Really? You didn’t mention that before. What are you doing?”

“Um… you’re fighting against the… the thing… I’m in the background…”

“Keep talking, Cross.”

“… You’re protecting me… I’m… I’m in the background… hurt.”

“Hmm, makes me sound kinda heroic,” Dust said a little teasing, hoping it would get some reaction out of Cross.

Cross smiled at him, exhausting clear in his eye lights. “To me you are,” he admitted.

Dust looked surprised down at Cross.

“I’ve always looked up to you and Nightmare the most… I love Killer and Horror too, but I feel a better connection with you.”

Dust chuckled a little embarrassed. “I’m not really role model material, Cross.”

“How not? You’re… you’re strong. You can be childish, but I like that about you… Even in the worse situations, you never give up…”

Dust looked down. He could remember one time he gave up. Horror would have paid the price for that had Cross not been there.

“You make mist’kes, we all do…”

Dust slightly jumped. Had he said that out loud?

“But you admit to them, and make sure it will never happen again.”

Not talking out loud. Just Cross being too perceptive despite dealing with a major headache.

“You’re brave…” Cross continued, his voice soft. “It doesn’t matter how… how wretched our situation is, you never back down… Heck, I’ve seen you stand up to Nightmare when he was not himself… And you’re loyal and- stars, my skull hurts.”

“It’s okay, Cross, just a headache.”

“Doesn’t feel like it… What was I talki-. Oh, you’re protective. No matter how hurt you are, no matter how angry you might be at the rest of us, you’ll never hesitate to stand up for us, to… to get involved despite not needing to… ‘m tired.”

“Stay awake, Cross.”

“My skull hurts, Dusty.”

“Yeah? Try not to think about it.”

“Wha’ happened?”

Dust sighed. They were going in circles this way and he felt like it did not matter what he said, Cross would forget it in a couple of minutes. Still, if it meant it kept Cross awake, he would continue. “Nothing,” he said, seeing no reason to tell the truth and worry him. “We’re just taking a break.”

“Oh, okay… Where’s… where’s the others?”

“… They’re coming. Don’t worry about it.”

“Where are we?”

Dust chuckled. “I have no idea,” he admitted. “It doesn’t matter anyway. The others will get us out of here.”

“Hmm…” Cross snuggled closer to Dust. “I’m glad you’re here, Dust,” he whispered. “I… I wish you weren’t, but… I’m glad you are.”

Dust smiled, understanding Cross completely as he felt the same way. If he had it his way, Cross would be back in the mansion, safe and sound. On the other hand, it was nice to have him here, remind him what he was holding on for.

Cross closed his eye sockets, no longer able to fight the exhausting. “I wanna go home.”

“Me too.” As Cross’ skull fell forward, Dust could not hide his panic any longer. Retrieving his hands back from Cross, he tried to shake him awake. “Cross? Cross, come on, wake up. Cross, please, wake up! Cross!”

Cross did not stir, a small smile spread across his skull as he remained blacked out, his only way of escape from their reality. Dust tried to wake him for what felt like hours, but Cross did not regain consciousness. In the end, Dust gave up and settled as close to Cross as he could without hurting either of them, slowly letting tears glide down his skull as he was left alone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Cross mentions Dust never gives up and Dust remembers he did is a reference to "Awake", an earlier story in the series.


	9. Chapter 9

Nightmare could not remember falling asleep on the couch, and the more he thought about it, the more irritated he became. It did not take him long to figure out he must have passed out before he managed to leave the mansion, and Killer and Horror must have placed him the nearest place. It was rather embarrassing for him to faint like that, and worse was the fact he still felt tired. He had no idea how long he had been out. It only felt like a couple of minutes, but he knew that was impossible. Despite not knowing how long he had been out, he knew it should not surprise him he was still tired. He had used a lot of energy and magic to search through the Multiverse for his missing gang members, and to remain as undetected as possible. He knew someone had probably seen him, but by that time he would already be gone to the next Au.

“’morning, Boss,” he heard Killer call out. “Or maybe I should say good evening instead?”

“Killer?”

Sitting up from the couch, he spotted Killer near the entrance, Horror standing beside him. Killer was not wearing his hoodie, which was kind of odd as he along with Horror and Dust always wore their hoodie. Without his knowledge, Killer had tried to cheer Horror up after their conversation taking place while waiting for Nightmare to wake up. Killer had shown Horror his humerus to prove he had not harmed himself for awhile. He did not have time to take it on as they heard Nightmare wake up.

“How’re you feeling?” Killer asked.

“Fine. Just need to wake up a bit more and then I’m off.”

Killer and Horror shared a look. “Nightmare, this isn’t working,” Horror said. “We’ve not gotten closer since we started looking for them. There must be something else we can do.”

“Like what?”

“Anything,” Killer answered. “You have to admit this is getting us nowhere. There has to be something else we can try.”

Nightmare stared at them. He knew they were right, and with him being as tired as he was, he may miss the leads if he actually found something. But what else could they do? They were not exactly the most liked monsters across the Multiverse. Not many monsters would lose a wink of sleep if any of them disappeared. Still, there might be someone who had heard something, but they would never talk to them about it. There was still the chance the Star Sans’ had something to do with it also. They needed to check out both, and yet none from the gang could do it. But maybe someone else could?

“Alright. Killer, I need you to do me a favor,” Nightmare said.

“What?”

“Contact Color,” Nightmare said, surprising the both of them. “Ask him if he can travel to the Multivoid and gather some information there. Maybe someone had heard something, and maybe they’re actually there.”

“You think the Star Sans’ had something to do with this?” Horror asked.

“I doubt it, but they’re my only guess. It’s better to search the place than just wonder about it. Color might find something out.”

Killer nodded, already getting excited by the possibility. How had he not thought about that? It was sometimes easy to forget the connection he had. Only the Star Sans’ knew to his and Color’s friendship, and as far as he knew, they had not said it to anyone and seemed to have no problems with it, as Color had been given access to the Multivoid. The Multivoid was a place created by Ink, and from what Color had described, it was a big castle like building where Sans’ from across the Multiverse could meet. Color had only gotten access to it by promising he would not reveal its location to Killer. Killer wondered if the Star Sans’ thought Color only talked to him, or if they knew he was also at the mansion sometimes. Nightmare had gotten the idea the Multivoid may be the Star Sans’ hideout, and while he would love to know where it was, he had promised not to get Color to reveal that information. He still hoped he would find it one day, but he did respect Color enough to leave him be. That, and he knew Color respected him enough to not reveal where his hideout is to the Star Sans’. Fair is fair.

“Okay, I’ll contact him,” Killer said. “You’re gonna stay here, right?”

“What?”

“Nightmare, you’re exhausted, you cannot deny that. You need to rest, and you just admitted it yourself; this plan is getting us nowhere. If Color finds something, we need to be ready, and you cannot help if you’re too tired.”

“Fine, I’ll stay,” Nightmare said and silently added. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I love it, though.” Killer smiled teasingly, before addressing Horror. “You stay here as well. I’ll be back soon.”

Horror did not look him in the eye sockets, only nodded. Nightmare noticed this, and as Killer walked past him, he grabbed his shoulder. “Did something happen between you two?” he whispered.

“Kinda,” Killer whispered back. “We had a talk yesterday. He was frustrated about not being able to do anything, and in his anger he brought up my… cutting therapy.” Killer smiled. “It’s all good though. I’m not mad at him or anything, but I guess he’s still guilty for what he said.”

Nightmare nodded. He may not have been present, but he knew his gang. None from the gang liked to talk about it because they wanted to help, but did not know how. Killer would feel guilty about the cutting, which in the end would make him feel even worse. Nightmare doubted Horror felt guilty for bringing it up; it was something Killer did and he had long since stopped denied it. He suspected Horror was scared about how what he said would affect Killer. From what Killer just told him, he understands it and is not mad, so Horror should not dwell too much about it. Nightmare would have to talk with Horror, maybe the both of them together, about this.

He let Killer go, letting the other contact Color. While he heard Killer’s voice talking in another room, he noticed Horror had slipped into the kitchen. Despite wanting to talk with Horror, Nightmare did not confront him just yet. Killer may interrupt them, and he doubted that would help. Not too long later, Killer returned, saying he had made an arrangement to meet with Color in Killertale to better discuss what was going on. Nightmare let him go, and the moment Killer disappeared, he made his way to the kitchen.

***

“Let’s try this again.”

Despite his current situation, Dust still managed to roll his eye lights. Once again his arms were supporting his weight, hanging this time just outside the cell instead of inside of it. Dust suspected that was in case his screams woke Cross up; this way he could not come to the rescue. Other than that the torture was like the other days; beating him up and stabbing him, sometimes twisting the knife still stuck in his bones, all the while asking the same questions over and over. Now that he had been through the beatings, his bones felt numb, and sometimes he barely felt the knife being stabbed into him. It had happened so many times now, a little more pain barely registered in his mind.

Dust hissed as the latest knife was taking out of him. The blood tickled down his leg, along with down the knife that was now shown before him.

“Ya sure ya don’t have anything to say?” Justice asked.

Dust glared at him. Even if he wanted to say something, he doubted he could. He could not remember the last time he got something to drink. His throat hurt from all the talking and screaming he had done, making his voice hoarse and difficult to understand. He was not sure he could talk without getting a coughing fit.

“You’re sturdier than I gave you credit for,” Justice said, removing the knife from Dust’s face. “I can understand why Nightmare wanted you on his team. It’s a shame royalty like that is wasted on someone who does not care about you.”

Somehow Dust managed to glare harder.

Justice smiled. “Did I touch a _nerve_?” he asked. “Ya can’t seriously believe he cares about you, or your friend over there. Wouldn’t he have found you by now if he did? I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s looking for new slaves.”

Dust wanted to laugh. These guys were just like everyone else; they knew nothing about Nightmare. He may not know what the gang was doing, but he refused to believe they had giving up. That was not in their nature.

“He did, after all, lose three of you in one day,” Justice continued. “And if he actually did search for you, he surely would have found the dust of your cracked friend. He probably believes you two are dead as well.”

Never known to be the quiet one, especially not when he was being provoked, Dust wanted to answer, but his dry throat made him cough violently instead. He groaned lowly as he finished, and noticed how Fairness now stood right next to him. He grabbed his skull and yanked him back, and before Dust could wonder what was going on, a glass of water was thrown at his face, most of it hitting his mouth. Dust coughed again as Fairness released his skull, this time coughing at the unexpected water. The water was cold, and it felt nice as it cleared his throat. While a warning would have been nice, the splashing water felt rather refreshing. A lot of it went down his throat, but a lot also hit his skull, now dripping down to his clothes. He shivered at the coldness of it, but welcomed it nonetheless. He had never been more grateful for water than in that moment.

“You were saying?” Justice asked.

“You… you’re lying,” Dust said. Despite the water, his voice was still hoarse. “Horror… Horror’s not… dead.”

Justice smiled. Through all the time he’d been here, Dust had not shown weakness that often. He screamed at the pain, but Justice would have questioned his sanity if he did not react to any of that. Now that they had thrown Cross in with him, he had shown more weakness than all the other days combined. Dust was not worried about himself, but his comrades. Their safety meant a lot to him, and that concern could be his downfall.

“Oh, how do you know that?” Justice asked. “He weren’t exactly healthy after that battle.”

“… He’s strong…”

“I know he’s strong, I fought him after all, but that doesn’t change the fact how beaten up he was.”

“You don’t… know him.”

“Hmm, maybe not, but I know he’s a skeleton monster, and I know his red eye light did not represent Determination like yours does,” Justice said. “Unlike you, even if he wanted to survive, his SOUL would not have been able to hold on. If he somehow was still conscious while hitting the water, he’ll watch his own body turn to dust without being able to stop it. He could not survive that.”

“You’re lying,” Dust repeated.

“Am I now? Tell me then, how would he survive it? Don’t you remember how beating up he was? Don’t you remember how he could barely stand on his own two feet?” Justice leaned closer as he whispered. “Don’t you remember his scream when he hit the water?”

For the first time since his first days of torture, Dust’s left eye light flared to life, a purple flame ignited from it. Despite being chained, Dust tried to get closer to Justice, if only just to kick him with his body, but his arms could not swing him that far, and Justice stepped back before he could try again. Seeing as he now had no other chance to reach him, Dust settled for glaring at him, the purple flame still visible from his left eye socket.

“He’s not dead,” Dust growled. “I know he isn’t.”

“You know or you believe?” Justice asked. “How can he be alive?”

Dust did not answer.

“Face it, Dust, he’s dead. His dust is flowing around in that lake as we speak.”

Dust still did not answer. The purple flame disappeared from his eye socket.

“Nightmare is not coming for you. He has no idea what became of you. I’m sure he believes you’re both dead.”

Dust looked down, slowly losing the hope he had held on to for so long.

“As for Cross; we both know he’s dying. It will only be a matter of time before he turns to dust right before your eye sockets.” Justice leaned closer again, still with that smile. “Face it, Dust; you’re alone, and no one is coming for you.”

“… Shut up,” Dust whispered.

“I think I gave you something to think about,” Justice said as he leaned back.

Dust got thrown back into the cell, his body landing hard on the brick floor. He stayed down, Justice’s words echoing in his skull. He did not know how much longer he could keep this up, and he knew the kidnappers were running out of patience. Their constant yelling was a giveaway.

“You better talk soon. You have nothing to lose, anyway. We’ll see you tomorrow, and I warn you, Dust, if you still have nothing to say by then, you _will_ regret it.”

With those final words from Justice, Dust heard their retrieving footsteps, leaving him alone again. Dust did not fear the threat, having heard it pretty much every day since he’s been here. They never lied about it, as their torture methods always did get worse, but it was nothing that would break him. Staying on the floor a little longer to breath, Dust crawled over to the corner where Cross lie unconscious, oblivious to what had just transpired. The kidnappers still believed he had never woken up since being thrown into the cell, and Dust wanted to keep it that way. Cross had woken up one other time, even more confused than the first time. Again, he blacked out not long after, and Dust had not been able to wake him since. He hoped that Cross’ wounds were not as serious as he first believed, but it was hard to say, and he feared he would make it worse if he removed the bandages to check. The second time Cross woke up, he still complained about his thumping skull. It was a scary situation, and Dust felt so helpless.

Dust found his way next to Cross, leaning his skull against the other and closed his eye sockets. He wanted to fall asleep, but if Cross woke up, he needed to be awake. While Cross was not awake, Dust enjoyed his presence. It was better than when he was left alone, at the same time he had never been more worried. Now he not only had himself to worry about, but Cross as well. He did not mind if he died during this. His life did not matter that much to him anymore, but he would never allow them to kill Cross. He wanted to believe the gang was coming for them, he still believed that, but he was afraid it was getting too late. He was not sure how much more torture his body could take. He still did not want to give up.

What if Justice was right? What if Horror was dead? Dust did not want to believe it, but he had to admit Justice had been right in pretty much everything he said. Horror was strong, but without any help, he could not have survived that. Did Killer and Nightmare find him in time? Did they even find him? Dust had so many questions and no way in getting answers. He had to believe Horror was alive, and yet it was tough. An image of Horror standing before him entered his mind. The moment he and Cross had been surrounded by a range of Gaster Blasters created by Justice and Fairness, and how Horror managed to distract them before they could fire. Horror had looked so tired, so beaten up, and yet he still tried to protect them. He risked his life to protect them, and they didn’t take the chance to get away. Dust knew he would never have forgiven himself if he had left Horror, but he should at least have gotten Cross to safety. Instead, they watched dumbfounded as Horror got thrown into the lake.

Tears gathered in his eye sockets while he regretted his actions. Forcing his eye sockets open, Dust started talking. “Hey Cross, remember that time we build a fort in one of the empty rooms in the mansion?” he asked. Knowing he would not get an answer, he continued. “And how we challenged Killer and Horror to find a way in without teleportation? Heh, we knew they would win in the end, but I think we did a good job defending it. That was a fun day… I wonder if we could do it with Nightmare one day, but take it up a notch. Like… like he needs to protect the mansion and we have to retrieve something in it. Heh, I wouldn’t mind a training exercise like that. I hafta suggest that if we get… _when_ we get home…”

***

Color stood alone at Waterfall in Killertale, looking up at the crystals. Thanks to being at Nightmare’s hideout, he had now fulfilled his wish and seen the stars. They were even more beautiful than he had ever imagined. Camping outside with Killer under the stars had been one of the best days of his life. Now, the crystals hanging from the ceiling were not as stunning as he once thought, they could not compare to the real deal, but they still held a special place in Color’s SOUL. Even now, they could still make him smile.

The smile widened as he noticed a new presence. The phone call from Killer had surprised him, not so much the call itself but the tone of voice Killer had used. Killer sounded so distraught Color had not known how to handle it, and when he started talking about it, he had trouble understanding what was actually being said. In the end, Color asked if they could meet instead. That way he would have a better chance at understanding Killer, and may comfort him for whatever was wrong. He did understand enough that it had something to do with the gang, and Color had not thought more about it, as he did not want to come to the wrong conclusion. He knew the gang cared for each other, so it was hard to imagine they had done something to upset Killer so much.

“Heya Kill, long time no see,” Color greeted.

Killer’s appearance showed a kind of worry Color could not identify. It could be hard to read Killer as he had no eye lights, but Color had known him for a long time and took pride that he could read the former emotionless skeleton like a book. He did not need to this time, as Killer did not even try to hide his worry.

Killer greeted him back, enveloping him in a hug. “I need your help,” he said as they let they go of each other, not wanting to waste any time.

Color nodded. He listened carefully as Killer explained what had happened; how Dust and Cross had been missing for almost two weeks, how Error and Nightmare had searched for them and what he wanted him to do.

“And you believe the Star Sans’ is behind this?” Color asked once Killer finished his tale.

“We don’t know, but we’re running out of options,” Killer admitted. “Dust and Cross have been gone for a long time now, Color, and I don’t wanna imagine what they have been through. We don’t believe the Star Sans’ is doing this, but… who else could? I just wanna know what happened to them.”

Color wiped his tears away, surprising Killer a little as he had not noticed he had started crying. “It’s okay, Killer,” Color said while smiling. “I understand. I’ll do what I can to find some answers for ya.”

Killer smiled back and hugged Color again. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

They stayed like that for awhile before letting go. Killer wanted to stay longer, Color brought a whole new hope to him. He still found it amazing how positive he could become just by seeing him, and he had to admit it was embarrassing. Still, he did not mind when Color was there with him. He could handle the gang teasing him about it. It was mostly Dust that teased him with it.

Before he left, Color noticed how Killer was not wearing his hoodie, something he had never seen before. It was not a big deal, but he could not help but stare at his humerus as something caught his attention. His eye socket widened as he noticed some scars, too smooth to be made from a fight.

“Killer, what is that?” Color asked.

Killer tilted his head in confusion, until he noticed where Color was looking. Widening his own eye sockets, he remembered he had left the mansion before putting his hoodie on. The gang knew to his cutting habit, Color did not, and if it was up to Killer, he never should have found out about it. Now because of his own forgetfulness, Color now knows, and he found out at one of the worst moments.

“I… I promise, I’m gonna tell you about… that,” Killer said nervously, mostly ashamed. “But right now, I really need you to do this for me, Color.”

Tearing his eye light away from the scars, Color once again came face to face with Killer’s worried expression, now also showing a hint of pleading. He nodded. “Okay, I understand,” he said, making Killer sigh in relief. “I’ll come back to the mansion tomorrow,” Color promised. “I’ll return sooner if I find something.”

***

The following day they had not heard anything from Color. When Killer returned and told about the plan, Nightmare asked him if he could make Color continue the search and not come back today unless he found something out. It did not take long for Killer to do just that and Color confirmed he understood and continued asking around.

Nightmare had talked with Horror about his and Killer’s conversation, and like he suspected, Horror had been more afraid of Killer’s reaction of mention his cutting habit than actually bringing it up. It took awhile, but Nightmare eventually convinced Horror that Killer was not mad or ashamed about it, knowing what was said was during anger and frustration.

Horror now barely felt the effects of the attacks anymore. If he lifted something too heavy, his arms would give way pretty fast, but other than that he seemed to be back to normal. He still hated how he could do nothing but wait, but he was happy they had another plan this time. He hoped it would succeed.

While waiting for Color to return, they had called Error, remembering the Destroyer was still searching the Multiverse. When Error turned up at the mansion, he looked just as exhausted as Nightmare had. Just like Nightmare, he tried to hide it, but everyone saw through his façade. They told him about the plan with Color and how he had been right about the search being too farfetched. It took some convincing, but they also managed to talk Error to take a deserved rest. He stayed at the mansion, just in case.

Now, the gang did what they were getting tired of; waiting for answers.

***

Dust woke up in the same position he fell asleep in; leaning against Cross. He was confused for a moment as his mind woke up, not remembering he had falling asleep. He looked over at Cross, who was still unconscious. Feeling a slight panic, he tried to wake Cross up by shaking him and calling his name, but Cross did not react. Dust kept trying for a couple of minutes. When Cross still showed no sign of a reaction, Dust sighed and hoped he had not woken up while he had been asleep.

Dust straightened his back as it had not been the most comfortable position he had fallen asleep in. Thanks to the small opening in the cell, Dust could see it was daylight. If his memories served him right, it was also during the day he fell asleep. He had no idea if he had slept through the rest of the day and the whole night, or if he only slept for a couple of hours. He was not sure what he hoped for the most.

Dust closed his eye sockets again, not with the intention to fall back to sleep, but to keep calm and try to forget where he actually was. He listened to the sounds around him. He could hear Cross’ breathing the most, which soothed him and reminded him the other was still alive despite not having been awake for a long time. The next thing he noticed was the low sound of rain. A smile formed across his face as he heard the raindrops hitting the ground. Dust has never minded the rain. It reminded him of snow, and snow had always been a comfort for him. The rain was heavier, and Dust admitted he hated being out in the rain and getting soaked, but he loved just listening to it. The sound of rain hitting the ground kept him grounded. He listened to it until another sound disturbed him; footsteps. Sighing as quietly as he could, Dust forced his eye sockets open, and it did not take long before he saw the familiar faces of Justice and Fairness.

“Ya finally ready to talk?” Justice asked.

“I can talk a lot if ya want me to,” Dust said and smiled. “But not if it have anything to do with a hideout. You should get that through that thick skull of yours. I won’t say anything.”

“We’ll see,” Justice answered.

Just like yesterday, Fairness was the one who retrieved him from inside the cell. Unlike yesterday they did not just take him outside the cell, but left the dungeon completely. Dust blinked a couple of times as he heard the door behind him close, having not been used to be in daylight for the past two weeks. He knew he had no way of escape as his body refused to listen to him, and even if he could do something, he was still chained. He could not fight very well that way.

They took him to an almost empty room. It had a couple of windows from where the sun shone into, making Dust blink again. He hated to admit it, but he had missed the sunlight. Being in Nightmare’s gang for as long as he had, he had gotten used to seeing sunlight. Had he still been trapped Underground, he may know what it was. Other than the windows there was nothing but a table, a desktop and a chair. Fairness placed him on the chair, and to make sure he did not pull any stunts, he got chained to it as well.

Dust only noticed now that Justice had not followed them. That along with being taken somewhere else made him nervous. He had no idea what they had planned, though he doubted it would be worse than the knives. Maybe they just found some bigger knives and were too lazy to bring it down to the dungeon. Maybe it was to remind him how long they had held him down there, as the sunlight hurt his eye sockets.

Dust decided it did not matter in the end. He was not going to talk anyway. In a way to prepare himself for whatever they had planned, he sank his skull to look at the floor. He did not lift it when he heard Justice enter the room. Justice fumbled around with something, and as a sound Dust could not pinpoint filled the room, he looked up in curiosity, and could not help but look shocked. Justice had brought a propane torch with him, which at the moment was on and heating some kind of iron stick. The blue flame from the propane torch heated one end of the stick up, slowly making it orange.

Justice noticed the fear in Dust’s eye sockets and smiled. “Ya sure ya have nothing to say?” he asked.

Dust could have hit himself for showing the fear. He did not answer, only shook his skull. He may not be sure what exactly they were going to do with that iron stick, but he was sure it was going to hurt a lot more than the knives. Despite knowing that, he had never been one to give in, and he was not going to do it this time either.

Justice grabbed the iron stick, one of the ends now glowing red, orange and yellow, and turned the propane torch off. He swinged the iron stick slowly back and forth as he walked up to Dust, once again asking him if he had something to say. Dust only answered by blinking up at him. Justice demonstrated how hot the iron was by gently letting it touch the wood of the chair. The wood made a gentle hissing sound as it slowly burned, leaving a mark. Dust noticed how Justice had barely touched the chair with the iron to do that. Despite the fear gripping his SOUL, he tried to appear natural.

Justice held the iron up to Dust’s left eye socket. Dust could feel the heat from the iron and leaned back from it by instinct. Fairness walked behind him to hold his skull in place, and only now did Dust try to fight back. He shook his skull and tried to get his hands and legs free from the chair, but it was all in futile. No matter what he did, he could not get free. Fairness only held his skull tighter, making Dust hiss as he held some of his marks from other beatings.

With no way of escaping, Dust could do nothing as the heating end of the iron got placed under his left eye socket. He screamed as the bone from under his eye socket melted away, creating a hole big enough to be mistaken as another small nose hole. The iron was removed almost as soon as it had been placed, but the damage had been done. The bone was turned to liquid by the heat, and now slowly glided down from Dust’s skull, making it look like white tears. The lines were very thin, most of the melted bone tissue gathered at the bottom of the newly made hole.

Fairness let go of Dust’s skull, giving him free will to swing his skull back and forth in pain. His left eye socket was closed. It had freaked him out as he felt the bone melt away like an ice cream on a warm summer day. It had been painful, but already felt better as the heat from the iron slowly drifted away, letting the bone tissue dry. It hurt a lot, but to his credit Dust no longer screamed, only groaning from time to time.

He had not noticed how Justice had gone away from him in order to heat the iron up again. He recognized the sound of the propane torch being turned on, preheating the iron. Dust paid it no mind, too busy trying to keep his breathing under control. The new hole felt weird, and he could only imagine how it looked. As the hole cooled down and the liquid from the smelted bone dried, the pain became more tolerable. It stung a lot and it freaked him out that he had no idea how bad it was. He was not sure something like that could be healed.

“Do ya have something to tell me, or should we make a matching hole on the other side?” Justice asked, having retrieved the reheated iron stick.

Dust breathed heavily. He barely registered someone was talking to him, being in a state of shock. The voice did bring him back and made him focus. He did not hear the start of the sentence, but he did not need to as he was pretty sure it was the same question he got several times a day. He did not answer.

“Still a tough guy, I see,” Justice said and glared. “Let’s see if we can change that.”

Without warning, Fairness grabbed his skull yet again, even tighter than last time. Again the heated up end of the iron was placed nearby his left eye socket. Dust was puzzled at this, as he thought they would make a matching hole at the other side, but it seemed they have changed their mind.

“Do me a favor,” Justice started, pointing the end of the iron at Dust’s eye socket. “And keep your eye socket open.”

Dust widened his eye sockets, understanding what the kidnappers had planned this time. He fought harder than before to get free, but no matter how much he tried, neither the chains nor Fairness released him. He could do nothing to defend himself, and as the iron stick slowly came closer, he closed his eye sockets by instinct.

The heated end of the iron was placed at his closed eye socket. Just like before, the iron melted the bone away with no problems. The melted bone glided down, gathering at the bottom of the eye socket. The burn forced Dust to open his eye socket, half of it managed to be burned away before he could safe it. When he opened the eye socket, he looked directly into the heated iron, the yellow color blocked most of his vision. He could feel the heat from the iron, but he had no way in getting away from it.

Dust’s SOUL was filled with fear while looking at the iron. A moment passed by where nothing happened, as if giving Dust a chance to say something. When he remained quiet, the end of the iron was struck into his left eye socket. Dust screamed as the iron hit his eye light. Unlike the bone, the eye light was made of his magic and was not capable of melting away. The moment the iron hit the eye light, the purple flame that usually appeared during his usage of magic flared to life, illuminating the whole room up. Dust tried to lean back and away from the iron, but he could not. He fought against the restraints on his arms and legs, letting the chains dig deep into his bones. He did not notice it. The iron was twitched inside his eye socket. Dust could do nothing but scream in pain, tears glided down both eye sockets. Some of them hit the heated iron, making a hissing sound while it damped away.

Eventually Fairness let go of Dust’s skull, and it made Dust lean so much back in the chair he fell backwards. On his way to the floor, the iron left his eye socket. Dust hit the floor hard, but he did not notice it. The pain in his eye socket was indescribable. The magic in his eye socket calmed down as the iron was no longer disturbing it. The purple flame was still visible, flickering every once in a while. He could do nothing but whimper in pain on the floor.

Justice kneeled down next to him. “I promised it would only get worse, and I keep my promises,” he said. “We have another way to make you talk, but we won’t harm you anymore if you tell us what we want to know.”

Knowing Dust was in shock, he did not expect an answer. Instead, he asked Fairness to bring him back to the cell while he took care of the still heated iron and propane torch. Dust did not notice being freed from the chair, nor the way back to the cell. He grunted as he was thrown back in the cell and hit the floor. The impact with the ground snapped him out of his shock. He screamed again at the pain in his left eye socket until he no longer could. Carefully he touched the hole made by the iron and whimpered as it caused him more pain. He could barely see out of his left eye socket now. His vision was blurred, both by the damage done to the eye light but also by tears.

Dust looked up and spotted Cross, who was still unconscious on the floor, completely oblivious to what had taken place. Dust crawled over to Cross and shook him gently. “Please, Cross, please wake up,” he whispered, the tears from his left side mixing with the blood that slowly escaped his eye socket. “Please…”

Cross did not react. Dust snuggled closer to Cross for comfort. Cross had not showed any signs of waking up for a long time. Dust was starting to think that Justice had been right in everything he said; Cross would never wake up, Horror was dead, and Nightmare and Killer was probably not looking for them, believing they were dead as well.

Dust closed his eye sockets, and whimpered as he was reminded of the melted bone of his left eye socket, now only able to close it halfway. He cried harder as he lifted his skull from Cross, trying again to shake him awake. “Please, Cross, please wake up,” he begged. “I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

_“You’re never alone, Sans.”_

“Huh?”

Dust raised his skull, looking confused around the cell. He swore he heard a voice, but no other than him and Cross was here. He looked down at Cross, hoping he was staring back at him, but he was still blacked out. Believing the voice had just been his imagination, Dust snuggled back into Cross’ side, getting as much comfort as he could. His eye socket felt like it was burning, his body was battered and he knew his mind was breaking. He sobbed loudly, too broken to care how weak he must have looked.


	10. Chapter 10

Dust was leaning against the brick wall, looking straight ahead. His expression showed nothing but exhausting and pain in the left eye, while it was mostly just empty at the right side. He had not gotten a wink of sleep, the fear of the kidnappers taken him while being out kept him awake. Every time he heard a sound, he widened his eye sockets, sure it was the sound of footsteps no matter how far away the sound was. His left eye light hurt a lot. He could not control the magic in his left eye socket because of the damage. It would flicker every once in awhile, showing how desperately it needed to be healed. The magic would combine with his tears, sometimes making him cry red and purple tears. He was shaking all over, but he barely noticed it. He was afraid, and he hated that feeling. Fear was the one emotion he hated the most, as it could hinder his performance in battle, may delude him to make the wrong decision.

Dust whimpered as his magic acted out. Sparks of purple magic left his eye light, hitting his damaged eye socket and the hole right under it. Every time he blinked, he was reminded of the damage his eye socket had taken, as he could no longer close it all the way. That also prevented him from keeping the magic inside the socket. He was no longer sitting next to Cross, having abandoned the spot to sit at the other corner of the cell. He was afraid with the way his magic behaved he may hurt Cross with it. Dust no longer tried to wake him. He was still not sure if he believed Cross would wake up. It could not be a good sign for him to be unresponsive for so long. Was he dying? Maybe that was for the best. Dust hated that thought, but maybe it was. If Cross woke up, they would most likely do this to him as well, and that would surely break Dust. This way, Cross could at least die peaceful and painless.

The thought of Cross dying brought him back to the possibility that Horror already was dead. Dust hated to admit it, but Justice had a point; there was not a big chance of Horror surviving that battle. He could not drown as he had no lungs, but the cold water could still kill him if he stayed there for too long. If he died, Nightmare and Killer may not even have found him. His dust would be at the bottom of a lake after all, and then what would they believe? Could they believe they just disappeared? That they are dead? If they believed either, they would not search for them, and then Dust had no reason to keep fighting.

Maybe he should just die? He could not keep this up for much longer, the latest torture had affected him the most. His eye socket hurt, and no matter how much he tried, he could not forget it. Would that not be weak of him to just give up? It was not in his nature, but what else could he do? If no one was coming for them, why should he hold on?

Dust groaned as his magic acted out again. He slapped a hand over the eye socket, trying to keep the magic inside and ignoring the pain of holding his hand over the melted bone. Tears gathered in his eye sockets as the pain increased. He removed his hand again, the chains jingling as he did so. His magic sparked out of his eye light for a couple of minutes. When it was done, he leaned heavily against the wall, breathing fast.

Even if he wanted to give up, how could he? Dust looked down at his hands, noticing how the magic once again had mixed with his tears. Small droplets of water had gathered in his hand, some of it red, some of it purple. Determination and Perseverance. If he somehow lost those treats, would it kill him?

“Oh brother, will you really disappoint us all by giving up?”

Dust’s skull raised fast at the voice, believing the kidnappers had returned without him noticing. For the first time he ignored the pain as he widened his eye sockets. The kidnappers had not returned, instead he saw something he had not seen since joining the gang; his brother.

“… Paps?” he rasped out.

His brother looked the same, or at least how Dust remembered him the best. Floating in the air, only his skull and hands visible. His red scarf blowing in the air behind him. Despite how disappointed he sounded, he was smiling.

“Oh Sans, how much have you let yourself go?”

Dust blinked a couple of times, and then started shaking his skull. “No,” he whispered. “You’re… not here. You’re… just an imagination… You’re not here.”

“I’m always with you, brother. I would never leave you _._ ”

“No!” Dust yelled. “You’re dead! I killed you! You’re not here!”

“We’re talking together, are we not? I will always be with you, Sans. You’re never alone _._ ”

Dust hugged around his legs and hid his skull between them. “You’re not here,” he repeated. “You’re not here. You’re not here. I killed you, you’re not here.”

He kept this up for several minutes until it became too much for his voice and he started coughing. Fearfully, he raised his skull again and sighed in relief as his brother’s phantom was no longer there. Tears gathered in his eye sockets again, and he hid his skull between his legs, sobbing quietly alone.

***

Color had spent the last couple of days at the Multivoid. The first day he mostly searched around the big castle looking building, trying to find any sign of Dust and Cross. To his surprise he did find a hidden prison under the castle, but when he checked it out, it held no prisoners. He had talked with a lot of Sans’, making small talk before asking what they knew about Nightmare and his gang. Most of them told him what he already knew; Error and Nightmare had been seen at several Au’s lately without harming any one of them. No one knew what they planned, but everyone was worried about it. When Color asked them about the gang, they all replied that they had heard nothing about them, making them even more worried, as they feared Nightmare and Error were planning something. Color, of course, could not reassure them they were not planning anything, and could only pretend he was worried as well. It was getting tiring to have the same conversation all day with different skeletons, but he did this for Killer, and he would do anything for that skeleton.

At the moment, he was having yet another conversation with some Sans he had never seen before. The Sans was talking about his Au. Color had really learned a lot about the different Au’s these last couple of days, and about some of the fates the Sans’ here have. And he thought his fate was terrible.

“Sounds kinda… weird,” Color said once the Sans had explained his world. “So how did you get to know about this place?”

“Oh, I got a letter,” the Sans answered. “Thought it was a joke to begin with, but lo and behold, here I am. I never imagined something like this could exist. I mean, I had theories about different versions of me, us I guess, but ya know, seeing it is really… amazing.”

“Yeah, it is. So, have you heard about Ink and the Star Sans’?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s amazing what they do. It’s also kinda scary. I mean, they protect us from some really crazy skeletons.”

“Really?”

“Haven’t you heard about the God of Destruction?! Or Nightmare and his gang?!”

Color shrugged. “Well, I have heard about them, but not much. I mean, wouldn’t we hear about it if they did something? It’s been really quiet.”

“Yeah, I understand what ya mean… I’ve heard rumors, however, that Error and Nightmare have been seen across several Aus! But ya wanna know the weirdest part? They haven’t attacked anyone.”

“That is weird. You think they’re planning something?” Color asked, inwardly sighing for hearing the same thing yet again. “What about Nightmare’s gang? I mean, Nightmare doesn’t work alone, so wouldn’t it made sense that they were there as well?”

“It would. As far as I know, no one has heard of them for over two weeks,” the Sans answered and then remembered; “Oh, but I heard three of them were seen in some Au some time ago.”

“Three? Isn’t there four of them?”

“I think so, but there were only three of them at that time. Ruined a park, I believe. What are they called…?”

“Horror, Dust and Cross?”

“That’s it! So you have heard about them!”

“Yeah, but like I said, not much.”

“It is worrying, but I believe the Star Sans’ have everything under control,” the Sans said. He widened his eye sockets as he looked at the time. “Oh no, look at the time. I’m sorry, Color, but I gotta go. I promised Paps I would help him cook dinner tonight, believing it would make me more ‘productive’.”

“Heh, no problem. I’ll see you another time.”

The Sans nodded, and not a second later he was gone. Color sighed, but at least that was one of the short ones. Sometimes, he would talk to someone that just could not shut up, and Color did not want to be rude after they talked about what he wanted to know, and listened through it all. Well, that was another one who knew what everyone else also knew. Maybe he should make a gathering about this or something? Would that be suspecting? If the Star Sans’ heard about it, definitely. They all knew he was still talking with Killer, but they did not know he had been to Nightmare’s hideout and knew where it was, and he was not about to reveal that.

“I believe you know more about the Dark Sans’ than you let on.”

A voice snapped Color out of his thoughts. Looking around, he spotted another Sans leaning against a nearby wall. As he got Color’s attention, he walked up next to him.

“Why would you think that?” Color asked.

The Sans shrugged. “Just a feeling,” he said. “So do you?”

Color frowned. “Who’s asking? I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before.”

“I could ask you the same thing. My brother and I lived here for a long time, and I never saw you once. Why would you be so interested in Nightmare’s gang?”

Color blinked a couple of times. He did not visit the Multivoid that much, as he did not know anyone other than the Star Sans’, and they didn’t walk around here a lot, except for Blue of course. He shrugged. “Well, I sure don’t want them to attack my Au. If Error and Nightmare had been seen between different Au’s lately, I would like to know if they have mine in sight. Seeing as Nightmare’s gang haven’t been seen, it could be possible they’re up to something.”

“So you’ve gathered some information about them?” the Sans guessed. “… Do you know anything about them? Each of their weaknesses?”

“Who’s asking?” Color repeated, looking the other up and down. Color had no idea what he was wearing, but to him it looked ridiculous. It reminded him of some warrior clothing, making him believe this Sans might want to fight them. “I wouldn’t engage in a fight with them if I were you. I’ve seen them in battle, there’s a reason the Star Sans’ have troubles with them.”

“You’ve seen them fight…?”

“Yeah,” Color said a little hesitantly. He should not have said that. The last thing he needed was to accidently reveal he was friends with the Dark Sans’, and that he was doing this for them. He could not risk revealing too much about them. “Shortly.”

The Sans hummed. “You didn’t notice a weakness in any of them? Maybe in one of them with mismatched eye lights?”

Color blinked again. Mismatched eye lights? That could only be Dust and Cross, which also so happened to be the two he was searching for. “Why do you wanna know about that?” he asked. “Who are you?”

“The name’s Justice,” the Sans answered. “And I know your name’s Color and that the Star Sans’ offered to let you join them. What I don’t know is why you refused. Wouldn’t it be an honor to be able to save the Multiverse from those bastards?”

It took everything in Color not to glare at this Sans. Just like everyone else, he knew nothing. “It’s not my fight,” he answered, hoping he did not sound as angry as he felt.

“It will be when they attack you and your world.”

“I don’t believe they would. And haven’t you heard the rumors? Error and Nightmare had been between several Au’s lately and haven’t harmed a single one of them. Maybe they’re not as evil as you believe they are.”

“For someone having two major cuts you’re really gullible.”

Color frowned. “And for someone wearing a dress you’re really uncanny.”

The comment was apparently more insulting than Color thought. The Sans, or Justice as he had just been informed, retrieved a curved sword from within his clothes and hit Color with the shaft of the sword. “It’s called a surcoat, you dimwit,” Justice growled.

Color stepped back in surprise as he was hit by the shaft. He groaned in pain. “What the hell, man?” he said, only to see Justice was gone.

Color glared at the spot he had just been standing. And he thought he had a bad temper. There was no mirror near him, and as he along felt his skull, the pain increased just slightly. That had definitely left a mark, but it should not be too noticeable. Still, he did not want to risk anyone seeing it, as he did not want any rampage at the Multiverse. It was supposed to be a peaceful place, after all. Sighing, he believed he had no other choice than pay Nightmare’s gang a visit, hoping they had something that could either heal it or hide it.

***

Dust was shaking. So far the kidnappers had not showed their faces today. It was in the middle of day, given them more than enough time to torture him if they so desired. The magic in his left eye socket did not act out that much anymore, mostly glowing every once in awhile. It would still spark, hitting his eye socket and make him whimper again. It was cold, but Dust preferred that. The memory of the propane torch made him fear being warm, afraid if he wished for the warm they would burn him.

Dust was not afraid to die, having tried it many times, and yet he could not help but be afraid of it at the moment. Maybe because Cross was with him? He was not sure, and more than once he wished for it. Maybe he was not afraid of dying, more how they would kill him. He had for the most part gotten used to the pain in the eye socket, but every time his magic acted out, he would have to get used to it again, as it hurt even more.

Dust reacted to every little noise he heard. He was afraid of the kidnappers coming back and seeing his brother again. He was not sure if what he saw earlier was really his brother or just a dream. He reminded himself several times his brother was dead and could not have been there, but Dust could not help but wish he was there. He would at least not be alone then. He would have someone to remind him of what was important and what he should do. He would always shake his skull when he thought about that, not wanting to be insane again. He joked a lot about his former insanity and how he might still be insane, but how he acted now was nothing compared to when he joined the gang.

His throat was sore. As his magic acted out again, tears gathered in his eye sockets. He blinked, making them glide down his skull. As the tears hit his mouth, he opened it a little and let some of the tears in. They were salty, but it was liquid and Dust was becoming desperate for something to drink. He groaned as he tried to use his magic. His left eye socket flickered several times while doing so. In the end he managed to make a tongue in his mouth, and with it he licked the tears away as they glided down his cheekbones. The tears did not taste good; he still drank as many of them as he could catch.

A door opened. The familiar sound of the creaking door haunted him, taunted him as it let the kidnappers enter the dungeon. Their footsteps became louder, closer to him. Like a scared animal, Dust looked around to find somewhere he could hide. As the kidnappers once again stood outside the prison cell, their shadows hit Dust. Dust crept farther away from the prison door as it was opened, and in stepped his tormenters.

Justice smiled at seeing the fear in his prisoner’s eye lights. “Do ya have something to tell us, Dust?” he asked so sweetly it was disturbing.

At the sound of his voice, Dust again tried to back away from them. His back hit the brick wall, and he whimpered when he did so, knowing he could get no further away from them. Justice and Fairness grinned at each other. For as long as they had kept Dust here, he had never reacted like that. They both agreed he was a strong monster, but right now he looked nothing like his former self. He was afraid of them, and they enjoyed it.

Justice walked right up to him, squatting down before him. “Hmm, Dust? Aren’t you gonna answer?” he asked.

Noticing Justice walking closer, Dust had wrapped his arms around his legs and hid his skull. He shivered as he heard Juctice’s voice next to him. His SOUL was so enveloped with fear he did not hear what had been said. Instead of answering, he kept his skull hidden, wishing they would leave him alone.

Justice growled lowly when he got no answer. Standing up again, he asked his brother to grab Dust. When Fairness grabbed Dust and held him up by his hoodie, Dust shrieked and tried to get free, the sound of the chains filling the prison cell. To make Dust shut up, Fairness slapped him up against the wall, yelling at him to be quiet. Dust whimpered at the collision with the wall, but did as he was told and stopped screaming. He closed his eye sockets as much as he could when Justice entered his vision again.

“I’ll ask again; where is Nightmare’s hideout?” Justice asked.

Dust’s skull was spinning. He was not sure what they were even talking about. All he knew was they were hurting him, and he just wanted them to leave him alone. His left eye socket acted out again, hitting Fairness with some of the sparks. Fairness grunted as the magic hit him, noticing even with how weak a state Dust was in his magic was still strong.

“Welp, if you’re not gonna cooperate, I guess there’s no way around it,” Justice said. “Let’s take this somewhere else.”

Dust fought against them all the way out of the dungeon, both psychically and verbally. Both his efforts were ignored as he had no way of escape. While he hated being locked up, Dust had started to see the prison cell as his safe heaven, as it had been awhile since they last hurt him inside of it. Now every time he left it, it meant they were going to hurt him.

He was taking to the same room as yesterday, though this time he was placed down on his front on the table instead of the chair. They chained him to the table to prevent his escape. Dust breathed quickly, his eye lights searching the room for anything they were going to hit him with, but there was only the chair in the room. None of his tormenters left to retrieve anything. Fairness stood at his side, just enough to be out of his vision. Justice stood at the end of the table, leaning slightly down to look him in the eye sockets.

“Now, I’ll ask one last time, and if you don’t answer, this will hurt a lot,” Justice warned. “Where is the hideout?”

Dust’s panicked mind was too busy looking for clues as to what was going to happen to listen. He shrank back at Justice’s voice, and again he tried to get free from the chains.

Justice sighed. “Well, I warned ya,” he said and nodded up to Fairness.

Dust screamed as he heard Fairness move. It took him a moment to realize he was not being harmed. He heard a ripping sound, and felt how the back of his hoodie and shirt fell to the side, exposing his back. Puzzled, he looked back up at Justice, but the other showed no sign of noticing him. Dust tensed as Fairness grabbed one of his ribs.

“Last chance,” Justice warned.

Dust blinked confused back at him. Again Justice nodded to Fairness, and Dust barely had time to think about it as a scream escaped him. Fairness twisted his rib, separating it from the backbone. Dust screamed through it all, fighting harder against the restraints holding him down. They did not budge, and he could not do anything but whimper as the broken rib was twisted to the side, pointing away from the backbone. He felt blood glide down from the rib and backbone and tears glide down his eye socket. Fearfully, he tilted his skull to the side to look behind him, and felt sick as he saw one of his ribs sticking out from his body. He quickly looked away again, only to come face to face with a smiling Justice.

“One down, 23 to go,” he said. “Unless you have something to say.”

Dust breathed heavily. Something in him told him not to say anything. He was not sure why, but that part did not want him to give in, and he listened to it. Instead of answering, he looked away.

“No? Then let’s keep going.”

Dust could only whimper as he felt another rib being grabbed. He braced himself by closing his eye sockets and taking deep breaths. A bloodcurdling scream escaped him the same time another rib was broken from his backbone. Just like the first rib, this one was also placed to the side, not far from the first one. The sound of the chains filled the room as he tried to get free again. He had not even noticed he was doing this until another rib was being grabbed, followed by one of them yelling at him to stop moving. It took everything in Dust to keep still. He wanted to escape, but deep inside he knew there was no way out of this, and he did not need to make the kidnappers madder at him than they already was.

Dust felt an indescribable feeling of relief when Fairness let go of his third rib without breaking it. He kept his eye sockets closed, not wanting to be caught off guard in case they were just messing with him. As the sound of the chains yet again filled the room, Dust opened his eye sockets, as he was not the one moving them this time. He saw Justice readjust the chains holding his arms, tightening them so much he could no longer move them. He felt the same thing happening to his legs. Dust could not keep the panic down when he could not move either his legs or his arms, feeling even more trapped than before. His efforts were in vain, and the kidnappers punished him by grabbing a third rib and broke it without warning, tilting it to the side like the other two. Dust fought harder against the restraints, the chains bore into his bones.

The kidnappers gave him a chance to stop this, offering him to tell them what they wanted to know. Dust refused. Through all the pain, he could not remember why he could not talk to them, but he knew he would rather die than giving in. The kidnappers twisted another rib from his backbone at his silence, forcing him to scream again. Dust looked directly down at the table. He could no longer keep his eye sockets closed, the pain from every time a rib was being broken forced them open. Tears pricked in his eye sockets, his magic acted out for being damaged, adding to his agony. He could only accept what was happening.

The room was filled with Dust’s scream, the sound of the chains and the cracking sound each time a rib was broken. One by one, each of his ribs were separated from his backbone, twisting to the side to point the opposite direction than they really should. About halfway through the torture, Dust broke and begged for them to stop. They gave him a chance to talk, but when he still gave them nothing, they continued and ignored his cry of mercy. Dust’s voice broke not long after, all the screaming and begging damaging his voice. Despite that he still screamed, but his screams were now no longer as loud and most of the time cracked halfway through. He got a coughing fit many times when that happened, adding to his misery as his body tensed.

Eventually the kidnappers ran out of ribs to break. Dust’s back was now a bloody mess. All of his ribs were sticking out, blood dripping down from each of them. Had Dust had organs, the kidnappers would have had a clear view of them. Instead they saw something glowing behind the backbone, knowing it had been there the whole time but ignored it until now. Dust’s SOUL had flickered every time he screamed, now it barely glowed, illuminating how damaged its host was. Looking at it, the kidnappers wondered if they should stop this once and for all and just kill him. They wasted a lot of time doing this, and despite everything they put him through, Dust was still not talking.

Dust, oblivious to the kidnappers’ thoughts, had not even noticed they were no longer torturing him. His eye sockets were closed, his skull was hidden as much as he could in the table, his hoodie covering it helped him feel hidden. He no longer screamed, instead he either groaned or whimpered, depending on the pain and if the kidnappers moved or talked. Tears escaped his closed eye sockets. He barely noticed them, having gotten used to them by now. Dust forced his eye sockets open by the sound of some kind of weapon being drawn, by the sound either a knife or a sword. He could not locate either Justice or Fairness, but heard both of them talk somewhere behind him. He could not understand what they were saying, and he did not care. Nothing they had said during this whole thing had made any sense to him. They both sounded frustrated, but of what he did not know.

He turned out to be correct. Justice walked up beside him. “Welp, we’ve decided this whole thing had been a waste of time and that we no longer need you,” he said. “But we’re not gonna let someone like you just walk away. I think we’re gonna do the whole Multiverse a favor by killing you.”

Dust was not sure if he should feel relieved or scared. Right now death sounded rather desirable. If he died, this whole thing would be over, these skeletons would not be able to hurt him anymore. He feared death, at the same time he craved it. But there was something that wanted him to fight back, wanted him to keep living. He was not sure what he had to live for, what he had to fight for, but his SOUL told him there was something worth living for, and he decided to listen to it. He did not want to die, but how could he stop them when he was chained? He was powerless to stop them. Dust closed his eye sockets again. He tried. He really tried to survive this, and now it seemed like it had all been for nothing.

He heard Fairness step up on the table, his shadow looming over Dust. Dust braces himself, ready to accept his death. A blade was inserted directly into his SOUL. Dust screamed as loud as his voice allowed him to, cracking halfway through. He felt the cold blade stuck in his SOUL, feeling like it was tearing him apart. His life flashed before his eye lights; his life back in Dusttale, his brother, how much he fought to defeat the human, his insanity. He saw his life with Nightmare’s gang; meeting Nightmare and the others, the bond he had with each of them, feeling like he belonged somewhere again. Just like that he remembered why he could not give these skeletons anything. Just like that he remembered why he could not give up. Dust forced his eye sockets open; he refused to die like this.

Unbeknownst to him, Fairness watched in glee as small cracks spread across the SOUL from the blade. With as little HP as Dust had left, it would only be a matter of time before the SOUL would crack, shatter and Dust would live up to his name and become dust. As each crack ended at an end, Fairness expected to see the SOUL shatter.

But it refused.

Confused, Fairness looked at his brother for answers. Justice was too busy looking at Dust, having wanted to see his face turn to dust. Instead, he witnessed how Dust’s eye sockets, especially the left one, glowed red. Dust was determined not to die, for now at least. Justice walked back beside the table, noticing the cracks in the SOUL. He may not have Determination, but everyone could only hold on so long, and he did not want to waste any more time with this skeleton. He asked Fairness to bring Dust back to the cell, just to leave him to die.

Dust distinctly heard the sound of the chains, and felt relieved when they were released from the table, making him able to move his arms and legs again. He did not, knowing it would not please the kidnappers. As expected they did not remove the handcuffs or leg iron from him. Dust yelped as he was grabbed by the back of his cervical vertebra, still hidden between the materials of his hoodie. Relief filled his SOUL as he was taken back to the cell. Fairness said something he did not register, and then threw him back in the cell.

Dust landed on his back, and a broken scream escaped him by the impact. He quickly sat up, feeling like his back was on fire. He did not notice being left alone again, too busy trying to keep calm after the impact. He fearfully looked behind him to see as much of his back as he could. He felt sick as he saw a line of his broken, blood covered ribs spread out behind him, looking like a pair of wings. He looked back, feeling sick at the sight and felt no need to look at the other side, knowing it looked exactly the same. His body was shaking as he crawled over to his corner, not even looking over at the other where Cross was. Now with his back the way it was, he could no longer lean against the wall, and settled for sitting near it. The only sound in the cell was his sobs.

He was tired. He was cold. He was in pain. Dust wanted nothing more than just fall asleep, if he was lucky, he would not wake up again. And yet he was scared to sleep. Scared what would happen if he fell asleep. The blood tickled him as it slipped down his back. It was uncomfortable, but he refused to lie down, feeling like he gave up if he did so. He could not show weakness, he could not show they were winning.

“Oh brother, you’ve really letting yourself go.”

Dust blinked down at the ground, not sure if he had actually heard something or not. He recognized that voice, and yet he could not say who it belonged to. It was a voice he listened to a lot once, but had not heard it for awhile. He did know it did not long to the kidnappers, and that alone soothed him. Dust forced his skull to look up. When he did, he gasped and scooted further into the cell, some of his ribs hitting the wall. He cried out in pain and leaned away from the wall, all the while he never took his eye light away from what he was seeing. His brother, or at least some parts of him, was there. His smiling skull floated in the air along with his hands.

Dust blinked again, not sure he believed what he was seeing. “Pa… Paps…” he said. It hurt to talk, but it was nothing compared to how the rest of his body felt.

His brother’s smile widened. “Yeah, Sans, it’s me. It’s okay, you’re never alone,” he said, floating closer to Dust in order to caress his skull. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you, Sans?”

Sans? It felt weird to be called that. Why? It was his name, was it not? It should not be weird to be addressed by his own name. Dust leaned into the touch, happy for any kind of comfort, but it felt wrong. He knew his brother was touching him, yet he barely felt it. It felt cold, like a wind was hitting his skull and not a hand. Something was not right.

“You’re here?” Dust whispered. “But… you’re dead… I… killed you. How can…? How can you be here?”

“Oh Sans, I would never leave you. You may have ignored me for a long time, but I would never leave you alone. It’s okay,” Papyrus said.

It did not feel okay. Dust blinked up at him, and if he didn’t know better, it seemed like he could look right through him. Something was wrong. His brother was dead. He should not be here.

“It’s okay, Sans. I’m right here. I’ll never leave you. You’re never,” Papyrus soothed him, still petting his skull. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

There was no warmth from the touch. No matter how much Dust wished for it, he did not feel anything. The words, on the other hand, felt comforting, just what he needed to hear. He was no longer alone. He had someone to talk to, someone that always made everything alright. Someone he trusted.

Dust smiled. “Paps, you’re… you’re really here?” he said, still with a shaken voice yet sounding so hopeful, like a scared child.

“Of course, brother. I promised to never leave you, did I not?” Papyrus said, eye lights looking Dust over. “Oh brother, they’d really done a number on you.”

The comment made him cry again. “I-I-I’m so s-s-sorry, Paps,” he hiccupped out, again letting his tears fall freely. “I’m… I-I’m s-sorry for being s-so weak.”

“Sh, sh, Sans, it’s okay,” Papyrus soothed, one hand wiped the tears away.

In reality no tears were removed from his skull. Dust was too gone to realize it. He smiled at his brother’s words. His brother could always cheer him up. His brother was the best.

“I know you’re weak, Sans, but you can become stronger. I’ve waited so long for you to become productive, and now you finally are. You can become stronger, Sans,” Papyrus continued.

“H-how?”

“Gain LV, Sans. Remember, the more LV you have, the stronger you are. Those two skeletons have done so much to you, it’s time to return the favor,” Papyrus said. “Kill them.”

Kill them? Such harsh words. Would his brother really want that? That didn’t sound like his brother, did it? Dust could not remember. He remembered two versions of his brother; one naïve, believing in everyone until the end. And one mischievous, wanting him to kill everyone to become stronger. How could one monster be both of that?

_“Dust, the Papyrus you see is an imagination. Papyrus isn’t talking to you, your subconscious is.”_

That came from a memory, came from a voice he had not heard for awhile. Yet he remembered that day like it happened yesterday; Nightmare trying to convince him his brother was dead. But his brother is here. He is looking directly at him.

“I know it may not seem right, but in the end it will help us, Sans,” Papyrus’ voice interrupted his thoughts. “And with how much they have hurt you, they deserve it. Kill them.”

Dust continued to cry. The chains weighed his arms down, and the reminder of them made him sob louder. “I-I-I ca-can’t, Paps,” he hiccupped. “I… I’m not… s-str-strong enough.”

“Oh Sans, you cannot give up. We all sacrificed so much for you, we sacrificed our lives for you, you cannot be weak and give up,” Papyrus said. “You don’t wanna be weak anymore, do you?”

“… No…”

“Then kill them. They deserve it anyway.”

The magic in Dust’s left eye socket acted out again, this time because he tried to use it. For the first time he was able to ignore the pain. A huge smile spread across his face. “You’re right, Paps,” he said, no longer crying. “They’re just as bad as the human. We don’t need monsters like them.”

Instead of crying, the prison cell was now filled with a dark chuckle. Without knowing it, the kidnappers had successfully broken Dust, his mind no longer able to keep intact after all it had been through. They had no idea what they had done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The torture method Dust was put through here is inspired by a torture method mentioned in Norse History. It's called the "Blood Eagle," and is executed the same way as Dust was here, except the human victims got their back cut open to get to the ribs, and after the ribs had been twisted, their organs (I believe mostly the lungs) would be wrapped around the ribs to look like a pair of bloody wings. I couldn't do that to Dust as he have no organs, and I considered for a moment if his soul could be used instead, but decided against it, as I'm not sure how Dust would survive that nor how it could be healed, because his soul would literially be stretched.
> 
> Dust's memory of someone telling him Papyrus is his subconscious talking to him is taking from the first story in the series: "Nightmare's gang", from the fifth chapter I believe.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I was actually excited to write this chapter, and I'm satisfied with how it turned out. I may have wanted to better describe what was going on throughout the torture, but I think it turned out okay.


	11. Chapter 11

“I swear, I’m gonna murder him and I’m gonna enjoy it.”

“Killer, will you calm down?!”

Nightmare and Horror shared a confusing look with each other. They were in the kitchen at the mansion, and by the sound of it, Color had showed up and Killer was not happy about something. Seeing no point in guessing what could be going on, they both exited the kitchen and made their way to the living room, where they saw Color sitting on the couch with Killer standing right beside him, holding some kind of cloth to his skull.

“Heya Color,” Horror greeted, not wanting to be rude to the flamed skeleton. “What’s going on here?”

“Hey,” Color greeted back. “Apparently I insulted the wrong skeleton. Killer, would you stop that?! It’s not that bad!”

Color tried to slap the cloth away, but Killer did not let him, making Color question why he thought it was a good idea to show up here. It was just a little mark he had received from the blow, and while it still thumped, it was not that bad.

“Can I see it?” Horror asked.

Horror had been titled as the best medic when it came to head injuries. Thanks to what he had been through with his own skull, he knew a thing or two about them. Color nodded, and sat patiently while Horror removed the cloth to look at the mark. The mark was not that big, barely the size of coin. It was slightly grey, and considering how Color seemed to relax better with the cloth despite insisting he did not need it, the mark would not require any healing. Color did not seem to suffer from a concussion either. Killer was definitely overacting, which did not surprise Horror. Everyone from the gang had overreacted at least once about an injury that did not require anything.

“Color’s right, Killer,” Horror said, placing the cold cloth back over the mark. “Leave it alone a couple of days and it should be gone.”

“Told ya,” Color said with a smile.

“But you should keep that cloth on it, Color,” Horror added. “I know you’re trying to hide how pounding it actually is.”

Color’s smile vanished immediately. “Come on, Horror. I thought for a second there you were on my side,” he said. Despite having just lost the smile, he could not keep another one from appearing.

Horror just chuckled as he walked away from him. Killer, meanwhile, was still pissed. “I still wanna know who did it,” he said.

“Just let it go, Kill. I’m fine,” Color said. “And I don’t want you seeking him out.”

Killer sighed. “I promise I won’t seek him out,” he said. “But I do wanna know who he was so if I by change stumble upon him, I know I’m gonna punch him.”

Color rolled his eye light. “I’ve never seen him before.”

Killer sighed. “Alright, I’ll let it go,” he said. “I am curious how you pissed him off, though.”

Color chuckled. “I insulted his dress, apparently called a surcoat,” he said and shrugged. “To me it looked like a dress.”

Nightmare and Horror chuckled at that, Killer just frowned in confusion. “What is a surcoat?”

“It’s a, uh, how can I explain it?” Color asked himself. He stood up to demonstrate his explanation, luckily the cloth on his skull stayed in place. “It’s like a coat, going just a little longer than his knees. It was sleeveless. It was kinda splitted, I guess. With the colors, I mean. At the top it was black and blue, and at the bottom it was the opposite. Heh, he also wore a blue cape. I’ve never seen anyone dress like that, so maybe that’s why I felt the need to comment on it, and…” Color paused as he noticed Killer grinning at him. “I just gave you a perfect description of him, didn’t I?”

“I wouldn’t say perfect, but good enough for me to recognize him if I see him,” Killer said.

Color sighed, though he was still smiling. “I should have known I was walking right into a trap.”

Both Color and Killer chuckled at their antics. Nightmare, meanwhile, just rolled his eye light at the both of them. What just happened had nothing to do with what their current situation, but he was glad Color could help cheer Killer up. It had been rather dark at the mansion lately. Horror, on the other hand, had both eye sockets widened, not going unnoticed by Nightmare.

“You okay, Horror?” he asked.

Horror ignored him in favor of going back right opposite of Color, surprising both him and Killer. “Color, this Sans you met, did he maybe have a dragon around the chest area?” he asked.

Color thought about it for a moment before answering. “Now that you mention it, yeah, there was,” he said. “A yellow one.”

Horror sucked a breath in.

“What is it, Horror?” Nightmare asked.

“That Sans… He must have been the one I fought against,” Horror explained. “It sounds exactly like what he was wearing.”

It became quiet between the four of them. “Are you sure?” Nightmare asked.

“I can’t know for sure, but…”

“It’s worth checking out,” Killer finished.

Nightmare nodded. It may not be a strong lead, but if there was just a little chance this could be one of the kidnappers, it was worth a shot.

Color removed the cloth from his skull. “Okay, I’ll return and see if I can find him, or some information about him,” he said.

“Wouldn’t it be weird for you to suddenly want to know him?” Horror asked.

“The guy gave me this,” Color said, referring to the mark on top of his skull. “I don’t think it would be that weird.”

Horror nodded, satisfied with the answer. Killer remained quiet, wearing a somber expression.

Color, noticing this, walked up beside him. “What is it, Kill?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Killer replied automatically.

Color smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be fine. I know to be careful around this guy now,” he said. “This may lead us to Dust and Cross.”

“I know, I know. I just… wish I could come with you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Color repeated. “This could be our lucky break. Let’s not waste it.”

Killer nodded, pulling Color into a hug. “Be careful,” he whispered. If this Sans truly was one of the kidnappers, Killer knew he was dangerous. He did not want Color taken as well.

“I promise,” Color said, returning the hug. “I’ll be back as soon as possible,” he said to all of them once he and Killer separated. With one last glance at them he teleported back to the Multivoid, hoping to get some information about this mysterious Sans.

***

Dust was freezing. Now with his hoodie torn, it did not provide as much warmth as it once did. He still kept it on, seeing no reason to dispose it. He still liked the hoodie, and had taking his hood over his skull again, hiding most of his face. At the moment, he watched his brother float around the prison cell, waiting impatiently for the kidnappers to return so they could make their move. Dust was not sure what he could do. His eye socket hurt a lot, his back even more so. He was not sure what he could do to beat those skeletons. They had a huge advantage over him, and it made him less hopeful.

“Are you sure I can do this, Paps?” he asked the floating version of his brother. “I’m not sure I can do this. I don’t think I’m… strong enough.”

His brother’s phantom had been floating around the cell, waiting rather impatiently for the kidnappers to show up. He stopped when Dust talked to him. “Of course you can do this, Sans,” he soothed. “Just think of how much LV they will give you.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s also what worries me,” Dust admitted. “I’m in no state to fight. I’m pretty weak at the moment.”

“Hmm, you do have a point,” the phantom said, floating closer to Dust as if to estimate him. “They did do quite a number on you…” Papyrus’ eye lights lightened up as he spotted the other skeleton on the other side of the cell. “Just kill that guy. He had not moved at all anyway. He’s just easy EXP.”

Dust turned his skull to look at the other skeleton. He was not sure why, but he did not feel right about that. He could not remember this skeleton, yet he felt a sudden wave of protectiveness wash over him by Papyrus’ words. He shook his skull. “I can’t kill him, Paps,” he whispered, bowing his skull in shame. Again he disappointed his brother. Again he was a failure.

“Why not, brother?”

Dust shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just… can’t.”

Papyrus frowned, but it did not take long for him to smile again. “Very well then, maybe another time,” he said cheerfully.

Dust sighed in relief. At least Papyrus was not too disappointed in him. “What can I do, Paps?” he asked. “I’m still in no shape to fight, and with these chains, I’m at a big disadvantage.”

Papyrus floated up to him, grabbing the chains. “Sometimes, Sans, you have to make your disadvantages to your advantages,” he said.

Dust blinked. “I… I don’t think I understand, Paps.”

“I’m sure you will, brother, once the time is right.”

Before Dust could question him further, the familiar sound of a door filled the dungeon. Fear gripped his SOUL and like so many other times, he went further into the cell, this time being mindful where the brick wall was. His breathing increased along with his fear, afraid what they would do to him this time.

Before his mind could be completely clouded by fear, he noticed Papyrus floated behind him, grabbing his shoulders and whispering. “Do not show any fear, Sans. Do not show any weakness. I’m here, you’re not alone. Calm down.”

Dust kept breathing fast. The footsteps sounded so loud he barely heard Papyrus. They filled his mind, always been the clear sign he was going to get hurt. Papyrus kept whispering soothing words beside him, trying to make him remember he could not show weakness. Eventually Dust did what was asked and took deep breaths. As he noticed two shadows outside the prison cell, he started to panic once again.

Papyrus did not let him lose himself. He floated in front of Dust, blocking his vision from everything else. “Sans, keep it together,” he said. “I know you can do this. Do not let them get to you. You’re stronger than that.”

Dust shook his skull, tears pricked his eye sockets as he started whimpering in fear.

“Sans!” the phantom tried again, getting impatient. “Listen to me. You cannot show weakness. You cannot let them get to you! I know you’re not strong, but you can become stronger. We sacrificed so much for this, you cannot give up now! Get your act together!”

Dust whimpered again. He knew Papyrus was right, he needed to focus. He could not be weak anymore, he could not show fear. It was hard to calm down, especially as the footsteps became louder. He listened more to Papyrus, trying to only focus on his voice.

Papyrus smiled as Dust calmed down. “That’s it, Sans. It’s alright,” he reassured, floating behind him. “I’m right here. You have no need to be afraid. You’re stronger than both of them, and it’s time you prove that. Stand up.”

Dust shuddered. He looked back at Papyrus with a pleading gaze, silently begging him to let him stay where he was. Papyrus did not falter and demanded him to stand up again. He looked down. Unable to disappoint his brother more than he already had done throughout his life, Dust gritted his teeth sharply together and tried to do as he was told. His legs felt shaky, and he almost fell back down at his first attempt. His body screamed at him to stay down, he listened to his brother and stood all the way up. He groaned as he straightened his back, the wounds covering it reopening as he did so. He breathed heavily again, this time in pain. When he stood up, he breathed out, feeling a new kind of calm he had not felt since being locked up. The chains around his legs and hands were still annoying, still made him feel like a trapped animal, but at the same time he felt in control. He heard Papyrus chuckle beside him, encouraging him to take his revenge. A wide smile spread across Dust’s face, his left eye socket glowed the familiar purple color. It acted out again, but Dust did not notice it. He chuckled darkly, waiting for his prey to find him.

The kidnappers had expected Dust to be dead by now. Both of them were confused as they heard a voice from inside the prison cell, and hoped for a moment Cross had woken up. Instead, they found Dust not only alive, but standing near one of the corners, grinning at them. He looked like something taken straight out of horror movie. Most of his clothes were ribbed and covered in blood. His ribs were a bloody mess, dripping down to make a puddle of blood on the ground. He was breathing heavily and his left eye sparkled with purple magic, not able to make the purple flame it usually did. What shocked them the most was the wicked smile he wore, like he knew something they did not. He was staring at them, not saying a word or even indicated they were there. It was a very different behavior than how he acted yesterday.

“I HAD HOPED YOU’LL BE DEAD BY NOW,” Fairness said, not getting too affected by Dust’s behavior.

From this angle, they could not see Dust’s SOUL, his T-shirt still mostly intact to hide it. They could see a small light glinting off from the blood from the broken ribs. Despite not being able to see it, they knew Dust’s SOUL were just as cracked as they left it, if not worse. He should not have survived the night with such a damaged soul.

“His Determination is remarkable,” Justice admitted, too low for even Fairness to hear it. Dust had still not moved, had not even blinked at them, and it made him uneasy. “I think we may have broken him, Fair, just not the way we wanted.”

“HOW SO?” Fairness asked and shook his skull. “I GUESS IT DOES NOT MATTER. WE SHOULD JUST KILL THE BOTH OF THEM AND GET IT OVER WITH. IF HE STILL REFUSES TO DIE, THEN LEAVE HIM. MAYBE HE’LL BREAK WHEN HE SEES THE OTHER ONE’S DEAD.”

Dust growled lowly, not high enough for the kidnappers to hear him. The need to protect the other skeleton returned. He could still not explain that protective nature, but he was not going to let these skeletons do anything to him.

“Patience, Sans, don’t ruin your chance,” the phantom reminded him.

Dust listened to his brother, calming down again. He could not ruin this. He could not be weak. He kept an eye socket on Fairness when the other opened the cell door and stepped in. He forced himself to stand still and not attack. He only had one chance, and he needed to be ready to kill the both of them and not just one. He could not do that with the other still outside the cell. He watched as Fairness unsheathed his sword from his belt, the metal glinting from the small sunlight gleaming into the cell. Dust took a step back, his smile faltered. Fairness, believing Dust had just played brave, smiled as he stepped a little closer, raising the sword to pierce his SOUL again, this time wanting to let it stay until Dust died.

Dust stepped back again, hearing the chains from the leg irons. Looking down, he was reminded of what his brother said; ‘make your disadvantages to your advantages’. Taking a closer look at the handcuffs, a long chain hung from them, the chain usually used to hang him up somewhere if the kidnappers so desired. It was not that long, but long enough to be useful. Dust smiled again, waiting for the right moment; he only had one chance to get this to work.

Fairness enjoyed it when Dust stepped back from him, noticing how it would only take another step or so for the other to come back to back with the wall. Dust was trapped, and he was ready to end this once and for all. They had wasted enough time with this, and Dust had been nothing but a thorn in his side. It was time to remove it for good.

Fairness was so confident Dust could do nothing he let some of his guard down. Wanting to scare his prisoner even more, he stepped closer, playing around with him. However, the moment he did that, Dust bend down and swinged the hanging chain around Fairness, successfully grabbing the end of the chain with his tied together hands. He then pulled the chain while taking another step back, forcing the unprepared Fairness down on the ground. Letting go of the chain, Dust grabbed the sword from Fairness, having to hold it with both hands. He stood atop Fairness to keep him in check, but looked at Justice, knowing he would be his biggest problem for the moment.

Justice called after his brother, running into the cell while unsheathing a sword. Dust was forced to step down from Fairness as he protected himself against the attack, the swords clinking together. Thanks to most of the chain being under Fairness, Dust could not move very far. He needed to end this fast, his body already protesting for a rest. He ignored it in favor of dodging out of the way as the sword was swinging towards him. He took a change and swung his borrowed sword towards Justice. Justice, having not expected that, managed to block the attack, but was not prepared as Dust smashed his body into him, making him step back until he was trapped between Dust and the bars of the cell. Justice looked directly into Dust’s eye lights, noticing how they glowed red. The left also had a hint of purple, sparks still escaping it every once in awhile. It must hurt Dust a lot, yet he did not seem bothered by it.

Before Dust could do anything to Justice, Fairness grabbed him from behind by one of his ribs. Dust cried out in pain, the cry ending in a growl as he managed to grab one of the bars and used the momentum to kick backwards, sending Fairness back. He smashed the metal of the handcuffs directly into Justice’s face, making him see stars as he fell to the ground. With Justice distracted, Dust turned his focus back on Fairness, who was coming at him again. Thinking quick, Dust grabbed Justice’s sword and sliced Fairness across the chest area. Fairness stumbled back again, but Dust was not done. Without warning, he gripped Fairness’ surcoat and ribbed most of it off. Noticing a small glow hidden between the ribcage, Dust aimed and struck the sword directly into it. Fairness cried out, feeling his strength disappear. As he fell to his knees, Dust leaned closer to him.

“Doesn’t feel that nice, does it?” he asked with a glint in his eye socket. He smiled as Fairness turned to dust.

With one of them down, Dust refocused back to the other. Justice had recovered at the blow to his skull just in time to see his brother fall to his knees. He screamed his name, crying as he watched Fairness die. He did not have time to grieve as Dust came closer to him, a wicked smile on his face. Justice’s left eye glinted yellow. He stood up, ready to honor his brother by kill the monster that killed him.

Dust was not faced by the yellow glow. Still armed with the sword, he swung it over his skull, dust slowly falling from the weapon. Justice summoned a Gaster Blaster, but as soon as it was summoned, Dust sliced it over and finished the attack by also hitting Justice. He grabbed Justice and swung him against the wall of the cell. Justice groaned at the blow, but got to attention when he heard Dust’s dark chuckle. He looked up just in time to be pierced by the sword, feeling it going straight through him. It was not a killing blow. It was meant to hurt, and it did. Justice gasped as the sword was taken out of him. He widened his eye sockets as Dust swung it again, and teleported away just in time to dodge the attack.

Dust cursed as the sword hit empty air. Noticing he was alone, he fell to the ground, his body no longer able to keep up with his demands. He panted heavily again, trying to catch his breath.

“Nicely done, brother,” he heard his brother’s praise. “But you still need to get the other one.”

“I… I will… Paps, I… just need a… break,” Dust panted, the adrenaline of the fight leaving him fast.

“You cannot risk that, Sans,” Papyrus said. “What if he comes back? You let him get away, and now you need to find him.”

“… I… I will, Paps, just… give me a minute.”

“Are you going to be lazy again, Sans? You’ve done nothing but taking breaks your entire life. It’s time to pay back. Do you wanna be weak?”

“… No…”

“Then find him.”

Dust panted a moment longer before standing up, ignoring the pain in his back while doing so. “You’re right, Paps,” he said, smiling again. “I… I cannot be weak anymore…”

Slowly Dust made his way out of the cell, leaving the still unconscious Cross in order to find Justice. Little did he know Justice was no longer in the same Au as him.

***

Color returned to Nightmare’s hideout, going straight to the living room. He found the whole gang excluding Dust and Cross sitting on the couch or near it, waiting as patiently as they could for him. Error was there as well, resting on the back of the couch, still looking rather tired. Everyone looked up once they heard Color come in, and talked over each other if he found something. It was Nightmare that got them all to calm down, noticing Color never got a chance to answer one question before the next was being asked. When they had calmed down, Color started talking.

“Okay, I found out the Sans is called Justice and lives with his brother, Fairness,” Color started. “No one knew what Au they’re from, but according to some of the Sans’ there, they lived in the Multivoid for a couple of months after they abandoned their Au. Apparently there was some kind of war there.”

“Do you know where they live now?” Killer asked.

Color sighed. “I do not,” he regrettable. “But I know it to be pretty small. The Multivoid is not supposed to be somewhere you can live, and after those months Ink apparently made an Au for them to live in.”

Error perked up at that. He may be able to find that if it were not only a small Au but also created recently. That did take out a lot of Au’s in the Multiverse, especially if it was only the two of them living in it.

“Anything suggesting they could have Dust and Cross?” Horror asked.

“Well, they’re Star Sans’ wannabes,” Color said. “From what I heard, they wanted to join the Star Sans’ the moment they found out about them, but was rejected because they were too violent.”

The gang shared a look with each other. They could not deny they had a connection to the Star Sans’. If these skeletons were rejected for joining the Star Sans’, they may find some other way to join. Taken down some from Nightmare’s gang would surely boost that confidence. That also meant there was a chance they were too late and Dust and Cross was already dead, and yet Nightmare did not believe that. If they just wanted to kill them, why take them? They could have killed them at the park. It had been a long time since they took them, so there were still a chance they were dead now, but there was also a chance they was still alive, and that was all Nightmare needed to know to keep going.

First they needed to find that Au. Error got that task, and wasted no time in teleporting away. Meanwhile, Horror ran upstairs to his room in order to collect some weapons. If these skeletons were truly the same ones that attacked them so long ago, he knew he needed to be prepared. He wanted some payback. Killer did the same thing, dragging Color with him, leaving Nightmare alone. He did not mind, getting prepared himself for a possible rescue mission.

Color followed Killer to his room. Having spent a lot of time there since reuniting with him, he did not spent any time looking around. He followed Killer to a small cabinet on the wall. Color had seen it many times, but had never seen what it contained. When Killer opened it, he was not that surprised at seeing all kind of different knives hanging in there. Most of them where the same size as the knife Killer always carried with him, but there were also bigger and smaller ones.

“I thought you only used that one knife,” Color said.

“I usually do,” Killer confessed, taking some of the knives from the cabinet. “But it’s always good to be prepared.” He stuck the knives in his hoodie’s pockets, then looked back at Color. “You wanna come with us?”

Color shook his head. “It’s not my fight,” he admitted. “And I’m sure you can do fine without me… And I’d admit I still don’t like watching monsters die, no matter how much they may deserve it.”

Killer nodded, having already expected an answer like that but still felt the need to ask. He would not have minded if Color came with them, and he was sure the others would not either. Thinking about it, it would probably be for the best for Color to stay back. Not many knew to his relationship with them; only them, the Star Sans’ and Outer. The Star Sans’ did not seem to mind their friendship, though Killer doubted they knew to Color actually knowing where Nightmare’s hideout is. If they found out, or it got out that Color was friends with him, they may not take it lightly and hunt him down. The less people that saw him with them the better, for his own safety.

Killer closed the cabinet again. “Thank you,” he said, voice soft and a hint of emotion. “For doing this, I mean.”

“Anytime,” Color smiled. “I know how much these monsters mean to you, Kill, don’t hesitate to ask for me if you need my help. Remember, I’m just a phone call away.”

Killer nodded, thanking him again as he pulled him into a hug. When they broke apart, Color did not let go of his shoulders.

“And don’t be afraid to show emotions, Killer. No matter if they’re positive or negative, they’re important, and you shouldn’t feel the need to hide them.”

Had he had eye lights, it would have been clear how Killer looked away. It was sometimes scary how easy these skeletons could read him. Despite knowing Color for a long time, they had been apart for even longer, and it was kind of scary how easily he could still read him.

“I’ll… I’ll try,” Killer promised.

Color nodded. “That’s all I’m asking for,” he said. “Now go, bring Dust and Cross home.”

Killer nodded. They still had no idea if these skeletons were the kidnappers or if it was just a coincidence, but Color’s words made him almost positive this was it.

***

Dust was tired. He had no idea how long he had been walking around, searching for something, or someone. He could not remember. It was dark, the moonlight serving as his only light. Stars covered the black sky, but he did not notice them. The trees were black along with the bushes and ground. The ground was wet, had it rained? It was not now, and Dust felt pretty dry, except his back for some reason. His eye socket hurt. He tried to close it, but for some reason he could not close it all the way. It was strange. He was panting. He needed to move on. He needed to become stronger. He needed to find someone to make him stronger. Where was everyone?

Dust stopped at a clearing, trying to collect his thoughts. His skull was spinning, his body hurting. Papyrus reminded him he could not stop, he had to continue, he could no longer be weak. A nap sounded rather nice now, just for a few minutes. He closed his eye sockets, Papyrus barked at him to move. He tried to, but his body would not listen to him. He was tired. His body felt like it weighed too much. The chains were annoying. The leg irons did not allow him to walk too quickly, though he doubted he could do that anyway. He was tired at keeping his hands so close together. He needed to stretch them, but the handcuffs did not allow that. He had tried to use magic to get rid of them, but for some reason he could not. Maybe the handcuffs prevented that? It had hurt a lot when he tried to use magic, his left eye socket felt like it was burning. He continued anyway. What use was he if he could not use magic? He was too weak. He could not even teleport anywhere. He needed to become stronger, he needed EXP, he needed to raise his LV. How could he do that with no one around?

Dust panted heavily, shivering at the cold. He heard the wind rustle in the trees, having several times believed it was someone. There had to be someone somewhere, he just needed to find them. Taken a deep breath, Dust obeyed his brother and continued, determined to become stronger no matter what.

***

Everyone was anxious as they appeared at the Au where Dust and Cross may be. They appeared near a house close to a small forest. According to Error, Color had not lied when he said it was a small Au, as it only consisted of this little forest and the house. Silently, they walked closer to the house, stopping against the wall. Nightmare tried to sense some kind of emotions around them, but it was hard for him to detect anything. That was either because there was no one around, or he was being blinded by either his gangs’ emotions or his own suspense. It was not something he wasted time thinking about.

He walked up to the door and as silently as he could, tried the doorknob. The door was not locked, and he was happy when the door opened with barely any sound. If this turned out not to be the right place, they would prefer not to be seen by anyone. It was mostly dark inside the house, some light shone from a couple of rooms. They noticed some stairs further away, and could just barely make out some light from the second floor. As they all walked into the house, there was still no signs of anyone being there.

“Horror, you and I are gonna check the second floor,” Nightmare whispered. “Killer and Error, you search down here. Try and see if you can find some hidden rooms or maybe a basement.”

Everyone nodded. Nightmare followed after Horror, both of them walking silently up the stairs. The second floor had about four rooms, light shining out of one of them. With his hands, Nightmare signaled for Horror to check the first two rooms while he would check the last two, including the one with the light. Horror nodded, and wasted no time as he opened the first door. Meanwhile, Nightmare walked directly to the only room with the lights on. Silently, he looked into the room.

The room looked like a normal bedroom, filled with someone’s belongings. Currently no one was in the room, making Nightmare walk in and see if there was some clues as to who lived here. As far as he could see, there was nothing out of the ordinary, except for a perfect line of swords resting against the wall. Nightmare walking closer to those, noticing how well taking care of they were. They reminded him of the collection Horror had. It did show these skeletons were warriors, or collectors, not necessary the kidnappers. Finding nothing else interesting, he left the room to search the other. Just like the first one, this room also seemed to be a bedroom. A little more messy, but still well kept. This too had a line of weapons, mostly swords in all different shapes and sizes. Nearby on a desktop he saw a picture frame with two skeletons, who may be the ones who had taken two of his gang members.

Nightmare left the room, not wanting to be distracted with the what-ifs. It was still too early, and he dreaded the possibility that this was not the right place. No one seemed to have found anything as well, as they would have contacted him. Sighing, he feared this was just a dead end and a waste of time, bringing them no closer to finding Dust and Cross. Walking down the hallway, he expected to find Horror there as well, but the blood-covered skeleton was still searching in the first room. Frowning, and feeling a little hopeful, he decided to check up on him.

Horror had turned on the light in the room, and unlike the rooms Nightmare had just checked, this one barely had anything in it. There was only a lonely chair in the middle of the room and a window with the blinders blocking the light from the moon. Horror was standing at the wall to the far left.

Nightmare could not see what he was doing. “What it is, Horror,” he asked as he walked closer.

Horror had already noticed Nightmare’s presence; it is hard to ignore the dark aura surrounding him. Horror turned around at Nightmare’s voice, and it was only now Nightmare noticed he was holding something. A loose chain was hanging from the wall, long enough to give a capture enough room to walk around, but not enough to reach the door or the window.

“I’ve also noticed this,” Horror said, kneeling down near the wall and pointing at the ground.

When he walked closer, Nightmare noticed dark spots covering the wooden floor. “You believe this is blood?” Nightmare asked.

“Positive,” Horror answered, holding the chain up for Nightmare. “There’s blood on the chain as well. Someone had been beating in here.”

“Ya sure?”

Horror nodded. “You know skeletons don’t bleed that much, but we can still make quite a puddle if someone cuts us. The amount on the chains and floor indicate beatings, probably from either the nose hole, mouth or eye sockets, depending on where they were hit. Had they been stabbed, there would have been more blood.”

Nightmare nodded. He thought the victim could still have been cut, the blood could have landed on their clothes or something, but he had to admit Horror knew a lot more about skeleton anatomy than he did, especially now that he no longer could bleed. For now it did not matter either way, as this did not mean Dust and Cross were here.

“Let’s check the other room before catching up with Killer and Error,” Nightmare said.

Horror agreed, letting go of the chain and heard it slam against the wall and down the floor. Together, Nightmare and Horror walked into the room beside it, one of them turning the light on. When the room lightened up, they both widened their eye sockets. Just like the other room, this one barely had anything, only a table, a desktop and a chair. The table had chains hanging from each side, but the most alarming thing was the amount of blood covering the table. Most of it was in the middle on the table and on some of the chains, probably cutting into the victim as they tried to escape.

Nightmare and Horror shared a look. If Dust and Cross were truly here, chances were they were badly hurt. They checked around the table, and felt relief fill their SOULs as they found no dust piles. Trying to keep their hopes up, they left the room and went downstairs again, hoping Killer and Error had found something.

The first floor in the house barely had any rooms, only a kitchen, a hallway and a living room, so it did not take Killer and Error long to search the place. None of them found anything interesting, and they considered helping Nightmare and Horror when a hidden door caught their attention. Behind the front door was another door, easily missed if you did not know it was there. It could be mistaken as being part of the wall if not for the doorknob. When Killer tried the doorknob, he discovered it was locked. Frowning, he looked around for any sign of a key, but he found none. Instead of keep searching, he took a knife from one of his pockets and tried to pick the lock. The lock clicked open about the same time as Nightmare and Horror came downstairs.

They wasted no time and walked down the small stairway. There was no power outlet to the basement. Killer’s target-looking SOUL served as their light. On the way they noticed lanterns hanging on the ceilings, none of them had any light in them. Horror was the first one down the stairs, and the first one to notice this was not a basement, but a dungeon. Six prisons cells were located in the dungeon, three on each side. From the bottom of the stairs they could see the first two were empty, but when they looked at the ones in the middle, they all gasped. In one of the middle cells lay Cross, unconscious, a bandage covering the top of his skull. He was lying on the floor using his scarf and hoodie as a pillow. A pile of dust covered the middle of the cell, along with some clothes only one of them recognized. The farthest wall was ruined, bricks and dust covering the ground. None of them paid it any mind as they rushed inside the cell and over to Cross. They called his name and tried to shake him awake, but he remained unconscious. Horror was the one to remove the bandage on top of his head. When it was removed, he at first could not understand why it was there, until he looked closer. Small cracks covered the top of Cross’ skull. None of them were connected, but Horror feared they would if they were not healed. Keeping it together, he examined the cracks as best as he could.

“These are definitely the reason he won’t wake up,” Horror said. “His body is solely focused on healing them, but it cannot. As far as I can see, they should not leave any permanent damage.”

Everyone was relieved at hearing that. While Killer and Horror helped Cross up from the cold ground, Nightmare and Error went over to the pile of dust. From the clothes near it, they doubted it belonged to Dust. Error checked the last two cells, and found neither Dust nor dead monsters there. It did worry them, as it did not sound like Dust to just leave Cross like that, unless the other kidnapper was after him. As they only found one pile of dust, they figured only one of the kidnappers most be dead. If the other was still alive and Dust is gone, he could be searching for him, intending to kill him as Dust most likely killed the other kidnapper.

Nightmare decided they had to split up in two groups; one searching for Dust while the other would take care of Cross back at the mansion. “Horror, you’re with me. We’ll find Dust,” he declared. “Error and Killer, can you take Cross back and try and heal those cracks?”

Error and Killer nodded. None of them were capable of healing magic, but they had lots of healing items back at the mansion. If those could not help, Nightmare could take a look at it later. Nightmare wanted Horror to stay with him. He was not sure why, as Horror was the most experienced when it came to head injuries, but his gut told him he needed him, and so he decided to have him stay.

Looking around the small forest, Nightmare considered if they should split up or not. The forest may not be that big, but it was big enough to hide in. It was quiet, only the sound of the wind rustling the trees could be heard. Horror stood beside him, waiting for orders. Nightmare could feel his anxiousness to do something, ready to tear down the whole forest if it came to that. For now Nightmare decided to send him one direction while he searched another. If anyone found anything, they could either yell or sent some attack up in the air to alert the other.

Nightmare kept his senses sharp as he walked into the forest. At first he saw nothing but trees and bushes, the wind making him turn around several times as it rustled the leaves. It was hard for him to sense if anyone else was in this forest. He could sense something, but he was not sure if it came from Horror or someone else. For all he knew it came from himself.

Nightmare sighed, it had never been this hard for him detect emotions, negative or positive. He stopped up for a moment, using the silence to determine what he should do. He could search from the air. It would give him a better view of the forest, but it could also alert the other kidnapper, if he was even here. It could also alert Dust to his presence. Deciding it would not hurt to try, he got ready to climb one of the trees, only to stop up. The ground near him was dark, but one particular area was darker than the rest. He touched the darker ground, but he could not determine if it was just water, or blood.

A nearby presence made him look up. He was not sure what this presence was feeling, but he knew someone was hiding in the woods, watching him. At first he thought it was Horror, but the presence never revealed itself. Nightmare watched the trees closely, trying to find something out of the ordinary. If it was the missing kidnapper, he needed to be alert.

The surrounding was dark. Looking between the trees was nothing but darkness. For the first time in his entire life, Nightmare would have preferred it to be light. He always felt better in the darkness despite not being able to see in it. He had a better night vision than most monsters, but even he could not see completely in the dark.

The presence was becoming stronger, and as it did so, Nightmare could better detect its emotions; fear, pain and Determination. That was definitely not Horror. Looking closer between the trees, he listened more sharply after some kind of noise. He heard a chuckle. It was deep, and yet it cracked halfway through. Whoever it was they were in pain, and they tried to hide it.

Nightmare blinked a couple of times as two lights emerged from within the darkness. Despite the monster clearly being in pain, his eye lights shone brightly. One red and purple light and one completely red stared at him, the lights brightly enough to light its holder’s skull up just a bit.

“Dust?”

Something seemed wrong. Dust chuckled again. He seemed to be saying something, but he was too far away for Nightmare to hear him. Dust’s left eye light shone brighter, but something seemed wrong with it as it started to sparkle. The magic died down before he could summon any attack. He heard Dust growl, ending in a whimper from the pain he must be in. He looked to his left side, again saying something, then looking back at Nightmare as he stepped closer.

Nightmare could not help but widen his eye light as he did so. Despite the lack of light, he could see how torn up Dust’s clothes were, revealing the beating marks covering most of his bones. He had a hole from right under his left eye socket, which still sparkled with purple magic. Both his arms and legs were chained, a long chain hung from the handcuffs. What surprised him the most was Dust’s back. From his current position he could not see it clearly, but he saw how all of Dust’s ribs were sticking out from his sides, making them look like a pair of wings.

“Dust, what happened to you?” Nightmare asked.

Dust was panting. It was clear it took everything in him to keep standing. Nightmare was concerned of the lack of response. Dust could clearly hear him, but was ignoring him. He did look happy about seeing Nightmare, but not the kind of happy that had been expected. He wore a sick smile that reminded Nightmare of the day he first saw Dust. Dust’s behavior did as well. He was not talking to him, but kept both eye lights locked on him. He seemed to be listening, even when none of them were talking. He talked, but he was not talking to Nightmare.

“Dust?” Nightmare called out again, slowly realizing what must be going on.

Dust was confused. Something about the other skeleton seemed familiar, yet he could not figure out what. The name ‘Dust’ seemed to awaken something in him. It felt more right to be called that than ‘Sans’, and he could not understand why. His brother wanted him to attack.

“… I… can’t, Paps,” he said. For some reason he did not want to attack the dark skeleton.

His brother was saying something, but he was not sure what. It sounded like his brother’s voice was fading, like it was not supposed to be there. He saw Papyrus float in front of him to gain his attention. At first Dust did not notice, until Papyrus started to fade away.

“No!” he yelled, unknowingly surprising the other skeleton. “Don’t… don’t leave me, Paps… I don’t… don’t wanna be alone…”

It worked. He sighed in relief as Papyrus no longer seemed to disappear. He could understand what he was saying again, and leaned into the touch as Papyrus promised him he was not going anywhere. He was crying, he was scared and he was weak. He needed to become stronger.

Meanwhile, Nightmare stayed in place. Dust’s emotions were overwhelming, and he knew it would not help him if he came closer. Dust was scared, and right now it seemed like the belief Papyrus was with him was the only thing that kept him going. He tried to do a CHECK on Dust, but the other screamed when he did so, forcing him to stop. Something must be wrong with his SOUL if he acted like that.

Dust glared at the other skeleton. This one just wanted to hurt him as well. He could not let that happen. Again he tried to summon an attack, and again he was too distracted by the pain that followed to keep it going. His magic was not listening to him, and he could not understand why. He had no weapons to fight with, and he feared getting too close to the other skeleton. He seemed to have some kind of dark aura around him, and Dust both felt scared and comforted by it.

His anxiety heightened as someone else appeared. Another skeleton appeared not far from the tar-covered skeleton, yet he was looking straight at Dust. He gasped and also said something to Dust, but Dust was not sure what it was. He was scared. He was weak enough on his own, now he had to fight two skeletons. The new skeleton looked rather disturbing. He looked a lot like Dust, except for a huge crack in his skull and one big, red eye light. Dust was not sure why, but that eye light calmed him down. It should scare him, maybe made him run away, yet he stayed where he was. He was not sure he could run even if he wanted to.

Horror was speechless as he looked Dust up and down. Dust looked like something from a horror movie. When he stepped closer, he heard a very weak whimper from Dust as he stepped backwards. Horror stopped up, thinking about what he should do. Dust was scared, and seemed to recognize neither him nor Nightmare. Horror held both hands up in a surrendering manner, trying to show Dust he meant no harm.

“It’s okay, Dust,” Horror said, walking closer when Dust did not react. “We just wanna help ya. We won’t harm you.”

“He’s lying!” Papyrus’ phantom hissed beside Dust. “Kill them, Sans, before they kill you.”

“I…” Dust looked beside him. “I don’t think I can, Paps. He… I… I don’t wanna hurt him.”

“You cannot show weakness now, Sans,” Papyrus said. “We’ve sacrificed too much for you to just give up. They’re both strong, I can feel it. They will give you plenty of EXP. Kill them!”

“Paps, I-.”

“Dust, look at me.”

Dust blinked. It took him a moment to realize the skeleton coming closer to him was the one speaking to him. He obeyed, and started shaken as he noticed how close he was now. He still stayed still, the fear of being hurt was starting to paralyze him.

Horror smiled when Dust looked at him. It was hard to keep it up with how unsure Dust looked, but he had to keep the other calm. “That’s it, Dust. Remember who we are? Remember who I am?” he asked.

“… I…” Dust blinked again, purple sparks escaping from his left eye light again. He whimpered at the pain, unconsciously stepping back again at Papyrus’ words.

“Don’t show weakness, Sans!” Papyrus yelled, making Dust flinch. “He’s trying to fool you. Don’t listen to him. Kill him!”

“But-.”

“Dust,” Horror called out again, now almost as close that he could touch him. “Your brother is not here, remember? He’s dead, Dust. He’s not here with you.”

Tears formed in Dust’s eye sockets. “He… yes, he is… he… I’m not alone…”

“Dust, look at me. He’s not here,” Horror said and smiled. “And you’re not alone. We’re here. Try to understand, Dust.”

“… I…” Dust looked to his left, searching for guidance by his brother, but he was not there. “Paps?!” he yelled out, only to start coughing at the end. He ignored it as he yelled again. Still with his hands tied together, his panic increased. “Paps?! Please! Don’t… don’t leave me!”

“Dust!” Horror called out. He stepped closer again, but did not touch Dust in case it would only scare him even more. As Dust calmed down to look at him, he smiled and continued more calming. “It’s okay, Dust. I’m here. You’re safe. Do you remember, Dust?”

Dust blinked his tears away to get a better vision. He recognized that voice, that eye light, and yet he could not put a name on him. His presence did help calm him down, making it easier for him to concentrate. “… Hor… Horror?”

Horror smiled. “That’s it, Dust. It’s okay. You’re safe.”

Dust widened his eye sockets, ignoring the pain as he did so to step back again. He closed his eye sockets as much as he could and shook his skull back and forth, like he was trying to shake something off. “No! No, no, no, no,” Dust repeated.

Horror had not expected such a reaction. “Dust?”

“No!” Dust yelled. “You… you’re not here… you… Horror’s dead! I… I saw it… Lake… could not have survived that…” He looked up at Horror again, and started to freak out. “You’re not here! You can’t be here! You’re… I don’t want you to follow me around as well… You’re dead.”

Realizing what was going on, Horror no longer gave Dust his space and wrapped his arms around him, being mindful of his back. Dust tensed, trying to get free. When he could not, he cried louder and slowly lost the energy to fight back. He still did not believe Horror was really there, and was afraid he would now see him follow him around just like he believed his brother once did.

“You’re not here,” Dust sobbed, too tired to fight back anymore.

Horror pulled back just enough to look Dust in the eye sockets. “I’m not dead, Dust. I’m right here,” he assured. “I did get thrown into a lake and my condition was critical, but I survived.”

Dust shook his skull. “No… You could not have survived that…”

Horror smiled patiently and wiped Dust’s tears away. “Do you feel that, Dust? If I was dead, I could not touch you. I could not comfort you. I’m not dead, Dust. I’m right here.”

New tears always replaced the ones Horror wiped away. Dust focused on the touch. How warmth it felt, how comforting it felt. Horror had been able to hug him without being able to get away. It had actually hurt him when he tried to. Had it been his brother, he would easily have been able to get away, doing it all the time he believed he did not deserve Papyrus’ comfort.

He tried to clear his vision by blinking the tears away, all the time expecting Horror to disappear as well. He never did, just kept smiling at him. Very hesitating, Dust reached out to touch Horror between the ribs. It was not easy with the handcuffs, but he managed to do it. Instead of going through him like he expected it to do, he came into contact with the fabric of Horror’s T-shirt, feeling warmth coming from the SOUL hidden underneath.

Dust looked back at Horror, still unsure. “Horror?” he asked nervously, still afraid this was just an illusion.

Horror smiled wider. He grabbed Dust’s hand, trapping it between his hand and the T-shirt. “I’m right here, Dust,” he whispered, wiping some tears away with his other hand.

Dust breathed heavily out. Reality finally caught up with him; the fear of losing Horror, the fear of what Cross had been through, the pain he had been put through, the confusion and how he almost became insane again. As it all caught up with him along with the knowledge he was safe, he finally let his guard down, breaking down. Horror was there to prevent him from falling to the ground, and as he felt Horror wrap his arms around him again, Dust cried into his T-shirt. Horror let him, comforting him as best as he could.

Nightmare smiled from his position. He had decided to stay on the sidelines in case Dust decided to attack. With the state he was in, he doubted it would happen, but he wanted to be ready just in case. Seeing Horror being able to bring Dust back was relieving, but they were not out of this yet. Dust’s condition was critical, and they needed to get away from here. Still, moving Dust now may be too much for him. He needed to calm down before they did anything.

During the hug, Horror got a better view of the damage done to Dust’s back. It was a bloody mess, and almost made him sick seeing Dust’s back like that. He pulled away when he was sure Dust was okay with it. He still held him, but could now look into his eye lights again, seeing the damage done to his skull and eye socket as well. Tears escaped his own eye sockets as he asked; “What have they done to you?”

Dust could not answer, only cry even more.

At that Horror pulled him back into a hug. “It’s okay, Dust, it’s okay,” he whispered. “We got ya. You’re gonna be fine.”

Dust closed his eye sockets, enjoying the comfort, until a thought crossed his mind. “Wait, what about Cross?!” he asked, still not breaking the hug, but did raise his skull as if hoping he would spot the X-themed skeleton.

“It’s okay, Dust, he’s back at the mansion with Killer and Error,” Horror assured him. “He’s gonna be fine, just like you.”

Dust smiled, hiding his skull in Horror’s T-shirt again. For the first time since he was kidnapped, he felt truly safe. “Thank you,” he whispered, closing his eye sockets to enjoy the feeling better. He was safe now.


	12. Chapter 12

Nightmare and Horror brought Dust back to the mansion in one of the bathrooms. After Dust had calmed down as much as they believed he could, Nightmare came up to him to remove the handcuffs and iron legs. It was not easy as Dust reacted to pretty everything they did, but eventually he managed to remove both of them. Dust could not describe how relieved he was at having his hands and legs free, only now realizing how much they have weighed him down. The moment they were gone, he wrapped his arms around Horror and continued hiding his skull near his chest area, trying to hide from the world.

When they returned to the mansion, Dust was still holding on to Horror for dear life, but had calmed down to small whimpers. In the bathroom, Nightmare asked Horror to try and clean the ribs as much as he could while he checked up on the others. Before he left, Nightmare helped Horror get Dust out of his ruined hoodie and T-shirt and threw them on the floor. After Nightmare left the bathroom, Horror looked around for something he could use to clean the blood off, and how to do this while hurting Dust as less as possible.

Horror noticed a sponge near the sink, and for a moment he wondered why they even had one, but right now he did not complain. With as little movement as possible, he washed the sponge in hot water. When that was done, he wondered again how he should do this. The best way would probably be to get Dust to sit down, or at least turn around, as Horror would then be able to see the back better.

“Dust,” Horror whispered, tapping him gently on the shoulder when the other did not react. “Dust, I need you to sit down so I can clean your ribs.”

Dust shook his skull, burying his skull deeper into Horror’s chest area.

“Dust.”

Dust whimpered, still not letting go. Horror placed the sponge back on the sink in order to grab Dust’s skull. Gently, he made the other look at him. Dust had started crying again, one eye light looking back at him while the other was too damaged to be sure where it was looking. It broke Horror to see him like this, but they needed to do this.

Horror smiled as comforting as he could. “It’s okay, Dust, you know I won’t hurt you,” he said.

Dust nodded, he was still not letting Horror go. From their current position, Horror could not see Dust’s ribs that well, only how they spread out behind him. If Dust were to sit down, he was forced to sit straight, otherwise he would risk bending the ribs and cause more pain. Dust was not only afraid of Horror going away, but also the pain that may follow him.

“Alright…” Horror thought for a moment what to do. When he let go of Dust’s skull, it placed itself back against his chest. Now Horror could better see the damaged ribs. “Can ya get a little closer, Dust?”

Dust did not hesitate to do that, wrapping his arms around Horror despite his arms protest, still sore for forcing to hold his weight so many times.

Horror held around Dust with one arm. With the other he grabbed the sponge again. “I’m gonna try and clean your ribs, Dust, okay? This _will_ hurt, so tell me if it becomes too much and I’ll stop. Are you ready?”

It took a moment, but Dust eventually nodded. He whimpered as he felt the sponge touch his first rib, and tensed as he felt the warm water run down the rib to the back of his vertebra. Horror comforted him, holding the sponge still until Dust had calmed down again. When he did, Horror carefully cleaned the first rib of all the blood he could. Most of it were dry and would require rubbing to remove completely, something Horror knew Dust was not ready for. It did not take long for the sponge to become red as well, and after Horror deemed he had cleaned the first rib good enough, he cleaned the sponge to get rid of the blood, then started cleaning another rib. It was not easy with their current position, and Horror knew he would not be able to clean all of them. For now he only focused on cleaning what he could and keeping Dust calm.

Dust always tensed when the sponge touched his ribs. It did hurt a couple of times, but never enough to make him cry out. Every time he tensed, Horror would pause and wait until Dust was ready to continue. The warm water felt nice, and eventually Dust started to enjoy it. Horror would never hurt him on purpose. He kept on taking deep breaths and holding around Horror, trying to ignore the pain and only let the comfort wash over him.

Meanwhile, Nightmare located the rest of the gang in the living room. Cross had been placed on the couch, still unconscious but looked to be in better shape. Dark marks still covered his bones, a bandage was once again wrapped around the top of his skull. Both Killer and Error looked at him with expectation and worry.

“We found Dust. Horror is taking care of him as we speak,” Nightmare answered their non-spoken question. “How’s Cross doing?”

“We’ve done with we can,” Error answered. “You might have to heal him at some point, I’m not sure the healing magic in the bandages will be enough to heal the cracks.”

Nightmare nodded. “Is it critical?”

“Not at the moment. Why?”

Nightmare sighed. “Dust is in really bad shape,” he revealed, looking especially at Error. “I’m afraid I have to use all my energy to heal him. His left eye socket is looking rather bizarre. I’m not sure what they did to him, could you take a look at it?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, before we go up there, I have to warn you they beat Dust badly,” Nightmare started. “They’ve broken his back, beating him up, cut him and more. He does not look good. Can you try and keep your reactions under control when you see him? Dust is pretty scared, shaken up and refuses to let go of Horror. Try not to overwhelm him.”

With the promise made that they understood Nightmare showed Error and Killer to the bathroom. Despite the warning, Killer could not keep a gasp from escaping as he saw Dust. Error managed not to make a sound, but he was clearly surprised as well. Dust did not notice them right away. Horror was still cleaning his ribs, and it had gotten to a point he enjoyed it as the warm water hit his bones. Horror could only reach the upper ribs, and had gotten most of the blood off of them. When Nightmare knocked on the door, they both realized they were no longer alone. Dust smiled slightly as he saw Killer and Error before hiding in Horror’s T-shirt again. He knew he looked disturbing, and he did not want to see their reactions to it.

“Dust,” Nightmare started, gaining Dust’s attention again. “I need to have Error look at your eye socket, okay?”

Dust blinked a couple of times, as if he did not understand why that was needed. Before Nightmare could say anything else, Error walked up beside Dust, smiling down at him. “Heya, Dust,” he said. “Is it okay if I take a look at your eye socket? You don’t have to let go of Horror, just look at me.”

At that Dust nodded. He was about to hide his skull again when he remembered what Error had actually said. He wanted to hide from the world, but he forced himself to look at Error. Error bent down a little to better look at the eye socket. He could see what Nightmare meant when he said it was badly damaged. Dust’s eye light was still red and purple, but the colors had connected with each other, no longer a normal circle, but looked to be splashed out. Error also noticed how a layer of bone tissue had formed at the bottom of the eye socket.

“Dust, can you try and use magic?” Error asked. “Just for a moment.”

Dust hesitated for a second before doing as he was told. Just by trying and using magic made his eye light hurt, and he whimpered as the usual purple sparks once again flew out of his eye socket.

“That’s enough, Dust, thank you,” Error said. “Can I touch your eye socket and this little hole here?”

Dust was relieved once he no longer had to use magic. He shrank a little back at Error’s question, knowing it will hurt him despite the other having no intention to do so. He also knew Error just wanted to help, and he gave permission by slowly nodding his skull.

“Thank you, just tell me if you want me to stop,” Error said.

As gently as he possible could, Error carefully touched the melted bone tissue. It was not completely hardened. It did not stick to Error’s phalange, but when he touched it, he could push some of the tissue to the side. He could not remove it without hurting Dust, and he did not intent to. Seeing what he needed to, he took his phalange back and examined the little hole under the left eye socket as well, getting the same result. Now that he was this close, Error noticed how there was a couple of lines of bone tissue going down his cheekbone, most likely having been mixed with tears to look like that.

Dust felt a little uncomfortable while Error checked his eye socket. It did hurt him when he touched the bottom of the socket, but not by much. He felt Horror grab tighter around him, and only then did he notice how much he was shaken. He leaned a little closer to Horror, feeling the warm of his SOUL through his T-shirt. Without realizing it, he closed his eye sockets to enjoy the feeling, unaware showing Error where some of the bone tissue had come from.

Standing back up, Error let Dust be for now in order to look back at Nightmare. “I don’t believe you can heal that, Nightmare,” he admitted. “His magic is damaged, and until the rest of him is healed, we cannot do anything about that. Just like Cross, Dust’s magic is solely focused on healing him, and keeping him alive. If we heal all of these cuts and bruises, it should help. As for the burned bone, I’ve heard of some kind of cream that can heal that. It’s a painful healing method, but it will heal both that hole and his eye socket.”

Nightmare nodded. “Can you provide that cream?”

Error nodded. “I should be able to find it pretty quickly, but we should not use it until Dust had gotten some of his strength back.”

“What about his ribs? Can I heal those?”

Error took a closer look at some of the cleaned ribs, making sure not to touch them. “You should be able to heal them,” he said and looked rather apologetic at him. “Sooner rather than later. It will hurt, a lot. Someone has to twist them back in place, you heal the broken rib and then bandage it to make sure it stays where it’s supposed to be. It’s gonna be painful for him, but it is best to heal them as soon as possible. His body is using a lot of energy on those ribs.”

Nightmare nodded again. He had feared something like that, but at the same time he was grateful they could do something about it.

“Heal the cuts and bruises first,” Error instructed. “They may not use as much energy as his back and eye socket, but they’re still using some, not to mention they must be uncomfortable for him. After you healed those, give him a break before you start on the back. Then we’ll see when he’s ready for the cream.”

Doing everything he could at the moment, Error wished them good luck before teleporting away, going to find the needed cream. It was not a much known cream and it was quite rare, not because it was hard to produce, but because it was rarely needed. In most Au’s, only hospitals had them and could not be brought by citizens. It would slow him down a bit, but not by much.

Nightmare went next to Dust, explaining to him he was going to heal the cuts and bruises. When Dust indicated he understood and was ready, Nightmare started healing him, starting with one of his arms. The familiar blue glow slowly appeared across his humerus, healing as much as it could.

“Killer,” Horror called out lowly, beckoning for Killer to get in the bathroom as well.

Killer had been standing in the doorway, making sure he did not stand in the way. When Horror asked him to come over, he obeyed, not sure what to expect but ready to help in any way he could.

“Could you clean the rest of the ribs for me?” Horror asked, smiling a little sheepishly. “I can’t reach them like this.”

Killer looked first over at the sponge, now more red than the original color. He then looked down at Dust, who still had his eye sockets closed. If it weren’t for the occasional whimper from him, Killer would have thought he had falling asleep. The healing magic always felt rather uncomfortable at first, as it worked on putting the bone back together and heal wounds. Only after that was done did it start to feel pleasing. As he felt the healing magic cover his humerus, Dust whined and tightened his hold on Horror. Killer wondered for a moment why Dust was so clingy to Horror in particular. He understood why Dust was scared, and thought Horror had just been the nearest one when they found him. Dust had never been the clingy type, not even during some of his worst injuries. Of course, none from the past could compare with the ones he had now.

Horror noticed Killer’s stare. “He believed I died that day,” he whispered, patting Dust’s other arm to help him keep calm.

Killer nodded, better understanding Dust’s behavior. Not wanting to waste any more time, he took the sponge and washed the blood off of it. “How do I do it?” he asked.

“You wipe very gently. He may tense every time you touch him. If he does that, hold still; don’t remove the sponge from the rib, but don’t continue the cleaning either. Once he calmed down, you can continue,” Horror explained. “He may tense a lot at first, but the water is relaxing to him, so he should remain calm during most of it.”

Killer nodded, now standing right behind Dust and having a clear view of his back. Horror had cleaned the upper ribs nicely. All of them still had a red shade to them, probably not to cause Dust any pain. That did make Killer afraid he may end up hurting Dust on accident.

“Hey, Killer, it’s okay, you can do it,” Horror encouraged. “Just be gentle. You can eventually start by just letting it touch him.”

Killer nodded again. He could not hesitate about this, Dust needed him.

Horror lightly tapped Dust on the shoulder. “Hey Dust, Killer’s gonna clean the rest of your ribs, okay? He’ll be careful.”

Dust nodded against Horror’s T-shirt. “Kay…” he mumbled. “I trust him.”

Killer smiled at that and started doing what he had been told. Like Horror predicted, Dust tensed up the first times the sponge touched him, but eventually he calmed down and enjoyed it as warm water helped relax his bones. The healing magic on his arm also felt nice now, and has started to reach further down the arm to heal the big wounds the handcuffs had made. That took awhile to heal.

“Is… is Cross gonna be okay?”

Everyone stopped for a moment as Dust asked that. Nightmare was too busy healing the hands to answer and Horror had not seen Cross since they found him in the dungeon. That left Killer to answer.

“He’s gonna be fine, Dust,” Killer answered, going back to clean the ribs. “He’s still unconscious, but we’ve wrapped his skull up with new bandages. He’ll be fine.”

“I’ll check him after I’m done with this, Dust,” Nightmare said, having finished healing the whole arm. Since they wanted to give Dust a break after this, he might as well take a look at Cross’ injuries.

Dust nodded, happy with the answer. “’s good,” he whispered. “He… really scared me back there.”

The rest of the work happened mostly in silence. Dust would sometimes groan or whimper from the pain, in which Horror would then try and calm him down by saying comforting words and holding him tighter. Killer finished cleaning the ribs as Nightmare had healed Dust’s whole left side as much as he could. He continued on the right side, and Killer took his place on the left. While his right side was being healed, Dust looked up from Horror’s shirt and reached out to Killer. He smiled as Killer took his hand, but closed his eye sockets soon after, enjoying the feeling of having almost everyone from the gang around him again. Killer smiled as Dust relaxed again, still holding his hand. He did not mind, and made sure not to put pressure on any of the healed wounds, especially where the handcuffs had been.

As Nightmare almost finished healing Dust, he asked Killer to fetch a first aid kit. Killer returned with one just in time for Nightmare to finish the healing. Together, the two of them bandaged the places with the worst wounds, those that would leave the deepest scars. Dust got bandages around his hands, legs and some other parts of his body where the kidnappers had cut him. Dust had almost falling asleep by this point, his grip on Horror not as tight as it once was. Together with Nightmare, they helped Dust out the bathroom and down to the living room. Here they tried to make Dust let go of Horror, but when they tried, Dust whined and tightened the hold just a bit, too tired to really hold him tightly but enough to get his message across. Knowing Dust would just panic if they kept trying, Horror sat down at one end of the couch, bringing Dust with him. Dust whimpered as his back bent in the process, but once he was sitting on the couch, he calmed down again. It did not take long before he fell asleep, resting his skull on Horror’s shoulder.

Dust had been too tired to notice Cross was laying on the other end of the couch. They brought him there not only to make him sit more comfortable, but also to show him Cross was okay as well. For a moment they considered if they should move one of them to give the other more room, but decided against it. The couch was big enough for all three of them, and they did not plan on making Dust rest for too long.

Seeing as there was nothing more he could do for Dust, Nightmare turned his focus on Cross. He removed the new bandage across his skull, and saw for the first time the small cracks. They were not long. Nightmare had hoped the bandages would have been enough to heal them. He started concentration on healing the cracks, and it did not take long before the cracks were gone, only a couple of them leaving a scar. Nightmare wrapped a new bandage around Cross’ skull, just in case.

Meanwhile, Killer had cleaned the bathroom from the blood that had dripped on the floor. It did not take him long to clean up, and once he was done, he made his way to Dust’s room to fetch some new clothes for the other. He knew Dust should not get it on now, as his ribs would prevent any shirt from fitting him and the healing of the ribs may get his shorts dirty. Still, Killer thought it would be nice to have it when they needed it, and he wanted to do something. He joined the rest of them in the living room, placing Dust’s clothes on the coffee table.

They let Dust rest for about an hour. During that time, not much was being said. Dust slept mostly peacefully. He had turned around a couple of times, which made him bend his ribs and make him whimper in pain. He would always go back to the same position he tried to get away from. As it only happened a couple of times, none of them tried to move him into a different position, fearing it would only get worse. Before waking Dust, Nightmare wanted to be prepared for what they were about to do. Healing Dust’s back would be harder than healing his hands and legs, but that was not what Nightmare worried about. This would be something that would hurt Dust, and they had nothing to linger the pain. They may be forced to hold him down if he tried to fight against them.

Nightmare wanted to do it on the kitchen table. That way Dust could lie down and it may hinder him from trashing about too much. It would also bring them in another room, and he hoped it would not disturb Cross too much. Because it would happen in the kitchen, Cross may still wake up from it in a panic. Nightmare had wanted to do it somewhere else, but at the same time he wanted to be near Cross in case the other woke up. He had prepared the table as much as he could, having covered the table with a blanket to make Dust comfortable and placed a roll of bandages nearby. Now he just needed the patient, along with the skeletons to help him through it.

Horror and Killer was still in the living room, Dust slumped against Horror. When they noticed Nightmare’s expression, they knew what was about to happen. They both dreaded it, but also knew it had to be done.

“Killer, I need you to be the one to twist the ribs back in place,” Nightmare said before they woke Dust.

“Why me?” Killer asked.

“Because you’re the only one who can,” Nightmare answered, having expected the question. “I have to heal the ribs as soon as they’re back in place, and I’m not sure Dust is ready to let Horror out of his sight just yet. And we cannot wait until Error returns. We have to do this now.”

Killer nodded in understanding. He preferred not to, but in the end he knew it was for the best. If they did not do it, Dust would forever remain in pain. Killer knew he was not going to enjoy it, no one was.

Horror was the one to wake Dust. As he blinked his eye sockets open, Dust was confused as to where he was. For a second he believed he was still trapped in the cell, but Horror brought him back before he could panic. Dust groaned, having been in a deep sleep and did not enjoy being woken up already. As if believing they only woke him to make sure he was still alive, he snuggled closer to Horror and closed his eye sockets again.

Horror did not allow him. He moved his shoulder, keeping Dust awake with a whine. “I’m sorry, Dust, but we have to take a look at those ribs,” Horror said.

Dust whined again into Horror’s shoulder, having forgotten how his ribs looked for a moment. They hurt, and they were annoying. He could not move without noticing them, and the thought of having them healed almost sounded too good to be true. He knew it would not be as easy to heal them as his stabbing wounds had been.

They gave Dust a moment to fully wake up. Killer helped him slowly up from the couch, spare the ribs for as much movement as possible. Dust was no longer as clingy to Horror as before, but as he was led to the kitchen, he did look back to make sure Horror was following them. Horror grabbed his shoulder to show it was okay.

They all walked to the kitchen, Nightmare starting to explain to Dust what was going to happen to prepare him. Dust stopped listening as soon as he saw the table, flashbacks of being chained to a table entered his mind, closely followed by his ribs breaking one by one. How powerless he had been, how weak he had been. He had begged the kidnappers to let him go, to show him mercy, and he suddenly felt like they were there with him instead of the gang, wanting to put him through the torture once again.

Horror stepped up in front of him, blocking the table. “Wow, Dust, easy now. Take deep breaths with me, okay?”

Dust had not noticed how he was starting to hyperventilate, taking fast, loudly breaths. Now no longer able to see the table, the memories disappeared from his mind. He did as Horror asked him to do, taking deep breaths and slowly calmed down again.

“That’s it, Dust,” Horror commented with a smile. “Will you tell us what happened? What’s wrong?”

“… Table,” Dust answered and shook his skull. “Please, no table.”

Understanding shone in Nightmare’s eye light. He should have known the kidnappers would have tortured Dust by holding him down on a table. If they did the same, even with the intention to heal him, he would without a doubt remind him of his torture.

Nightmare thought for a moment what else they could do. “Would a chair be better?” he asked. He did not want Dust to stand up during this.

Dust nodded, he was still shaking. He was calmed down by both Killer and Horror while Nightmare found a chair. Dust did calm down, but he was still nervous as he sat down on the chair. He knew this was going to hurt, he just hoped it would be quick. His anxiety rose when Nightmare and Killer got behind him, not because he got another vision of them being the kidnappers, but of the pain he soon would feel.

Horror stepped into his vision again with an encouraging smile. “It’s okay to be nervous, Dust,” he said. “Don’t try to hide it, we understand. I’m here if you need me.”

Dust smiled gratefully. “Can you, uh, hold my hands?” he asked. “Not just to be there, but also make sure I stay still.”

“Of course,” Horror said, taking both Dust’s hands. “Break them if you have to.”

“Don’t do that,” came Nightmare’s voice from behind him. “I don’t wanna heal you as well.”

Killer, Horror and Dust all chuckled at that, Dust a little more broken, but not forced.

“Remember, if you need a break, don’t hesitate to tell us,” Horror said.

Dust nodded. “I’ll rather get it over with.”

Killer stood right behind Dust, preparing himself mentally for what was about to happen. Seeing Dust’s ribs twisted the way they were made him shudder, and the cracks in Dust’s SOUL made him worried. The cracks looked about ready to break the soul, and Killer was sure if it were not for the fact Dust possessed Determination, he would be dead. Had this happened to someone else, he doubted they would have survived it. The thought was chilling.

“Okay, Killer, I want you to twist the ribs back into their original place,” Nightmare explained. “Take one at a time. Once you’ve twisted it back, hold it there while I’m healing it. You can first let go once I’m ready to bandage it.”

Killer nodded.

Leaning in, Nightmare whispered to him so low only he could hear it. “And no matter how loud he screams, don’t let go once you’ve twisted a rib back,” he said. “You can give him a break after I’ve bandages the rib, but until then don’t let it go. It will only get worse if we twist it back and let it be. It will not stay like that for long.”

Killer shuddered, but nodded in understanding.

Nightmare smiled. “I know this will be tough, but we’re all in this, okay? And don’t hesitate to tell us if it becomes too much for you as well.”

“I promise,” Killer said.

The two of them got ready. Nightmare indicated for Killer to start at the top, his hands already glowing the familiar blue color.

Killer did not grab the rib right away. Instead he retrieved a clean cloth, just in case he needed it. “Are you ready, Dust?” he asked.

Dust buried his skull in Horror’s T-shirt. “… As much as I can be,” he mumbled.

“Okay, do you want me to warn you before I do it or do you prefer I just do it?”

“… Can you count down, please?”

“Of course,” Killer said.

Killer grabbed one of the upper ribs. Dust tensed as he did so, trying to get closer to Horror. Killer counted down from three, and then twisted the rib back in place. Dust kept a scream down, his eye socket getting wet from tears. They only made this worse as they touched his damaged eye socket. Nightmare started healing the rib as soon as it was back in place. It was hard for him to see because of the blood and Killer’s hand still holding it. Killer tried to wipe some of the blood away with the cloth. While it did not help Nightmare see better, it did help the magic heal the rib faster. Once he deemed it was done, he grabbed the roll of bandages and wrapped the rib. Only then did Killer let go of the rib. It took a couple of layers before Nightmare no longer saw blood going through the bandage.

Killer asked if Dust was ready for another rib healing healed. It took a moment before Dust nodded. Again Killer grabbed a rib and counting down from three before twisting it back. This time Dust could not help but scream. Unknowingly he tried to pull his hands back to get away from this. He only noticed he was doing this when Horror tried to comfort him, and stopped in order to keep his breathing calm. His ribs felt like they were on fire, the healing magic did not feel like it was doing anything. He felt the bandage being wrapped around his second rib, and how uncomfortable it felt when blood glided down from it.

They kept this going. Every time they bandaged a new rib, Killer would ask Dust if he wanted to continue or wanted to take a break. Dust always wanted to continue, he meant it when he said he just wanted this to be over with. He no longer tried to keep his screams down, nor keep his tears back. He let them freely glide down his skull, soaking Horror’s shirt. He would whimper every time they bandaged a rib, all the while listening to them how sorry they were. He wanted to tell them it was not their fault, but he was in too much pain to form the words. He no longer tried to get his hands back, instead he tightened his hold on Horror’s hands every time they twisted a rib back. It hurt Horror a lot, but he never complained.

“That was half of them,” Killer announced at some point. “Do you wanna take a break, Dust?”

Dust shook his skull, still keeping it hidden in Horror’s shirt.

“You’re doing good, Dust,” Horror commented, watching as Nightmare moved to the other side. “How are you feeling?”

If Dust had the energy to, he would glare up at Horror. He understood the need to ask, but right now he felt it was a stupid question. “Just _fibula_ -ous,” he answered sarcastic.

Dust could not help but grin as he heard both Killer and Horror chuckle. He was usually the one who tried to lighten the mood in the most desperate situations, and he always felt a little pride when he succeeded in making some of the others laugh.

“Really Dust?” Horror asked with a smile. “You’re the only one I know that can tell a pun in these kinds of situations.”

“I guess that’s just one of my att- _rib_ -utes.”

Again Horror and Killer chuckled, and Dust could imagine Nightmare roll his eye light at the three of them. Nightmare did not hate puns, to his knowledge at least, but he did not appreciate them as much as the rest of them. Right now he was rather relieved Dust could tell puns at a time like this; it showed the kidnappers did not break him.

“You’re such a numbskull, Dust,” Horror said, patting the top of his skull because Dust was still hidden in his shirt.

Dust chuckled. It hurt while doing so, but this was the first time he truly did not care. It felt nice to be back with these skeletons.

They continued the healing again. Killer fetched a new cloth before they started. Dust tensed again as his first rib on the other side was grabbed, but was calmed down by all three of them. He tightened his hold around Horror, keeping his skull hidden in his shirt to remain in darkness. The pain on his back was indescribable. When they reached the last ribs, his back felt rather numb. He no longer screamed in pain, only whimpered and groaned.

“Last one,” Killer suddenly said, and Dust could have sighed in relief.

He whimpered as he felt the last rib being twisted back in place. He barely felt the healing magic, nor the bandage wrapped around it afterwards. What he did feel was Nightmare and Killer on each side of him, comforting him and telling him he did a good job. Dust finally raised his skull from Horror’s shirt, not enough to leave it but enough to no longer hide in it. Worry filled his SOUL as he looked behind him, and a smile broke out as he no longer saw the back of his ribs. They still hurt him from what they had been through, but they were no longer sticking out in an angle that made him sick. Relief filled him so much he forgot all about the pain for a moment. Because of his excitement, his SOUL reacted and lightened his eye lights up to show that excitement, only to make him gasp as it hurt his left eye light to do so. He had somehow forgotten about the ruined eye socket. He could still see through it, though some things were blurring. He preferred to keep it closed, despite not being able to close it all the way.

Horror helped Dust up from the chair, helping him back to the living room and on the couch to get some rest. Dust insisted there was no way he could fall asleep after that. He was relieved at seeing Cross on the couch as well, a little worried he had not noticed the X-themed skeleton until now. Horror explained what they had done to Cross and how Nightmare expected he should wake up soon. Dust was lying on his front on the other end of the couch, for the first time since being rescued without holding Horror like a lifeline. Instead he sat on the pillow at the end of the couch, keeping an eye socket on Dust.

Dust smiled when he heard Cross was expected to wake up. “I hope he wakes up soon,” he mumbled, slumping against the couch.

“So do we,” Horror whispered, noticing how tired Dust was. He glided a phalange down the side of his skull, helping him relax. It did not take long before Dust fell asleep.

Meanwhile, Nightmare and Killer stayed in the kitchen to clean up. Killer cleaned the blood that had gotten down on the floor during the healing. It was not a lot thanks to him wiping most of it away with the cloth, and it did not take long before the floor was clean of the blood. He threw the two cloths he had been used away. Nightmare sat the chair back to the kitchen table and checked it to make sure no blood had gotten on it.

“You doing okay?” Nightmare asked during their cleaning, knowing full well how good Killer is at hiding emotions.

“I’m not the one who just got all his ribs twisted,” Killer answered.

“Doesn’t mean you’re okay.”

Killer sighed. “I’m as fine as I can be. I know Dust’s gonna be okay, and I’ve seen him get hurt before, just… not like that. I’ve seen him break down before, but never like this. He’s gonna be fine, I know that, I just wish it could happen now. He may look okay, but I can’t help but wonder how damaged he may be.”

Nightmare could understand that. Despite being in pain and scared, Dust still tried to appear just a little normal. Telling puns was not done for his own sake, but for theirs. He did not want to worry them, and telling puns was just his way of trying to lighten the mood.

“I understand that, Killer. They did put him through a lot,” Nightmare said and smiled. “But I’m sure Dust can get through it. If anyone could, it would be him. He’s not easily broken.”

“… He kinda did.”

“He never gave up. He did believe his brother was back, but I think that’s kind of like a survival instinct for him now. The words his brother says is what he wants to hear, and it keeps him going. I know you were not there when we found him, I wish now you were. I could not bring Dust back, but Horror could. And Horror could do it because he had been used to try and break him. Dust believed he died that day, seeing him brought him back. I don’t believe he’s gonna just move on and be back to normal by tomorrow, but I think he’s gonna pull through.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Killer said. “I’m kinda worried about his SOUL. The cracks are freaking me out.”

“They are worrying and are making him weaker. Once Dust has gotten his energy back, they should disappear.”

Killer nodded. He knew all that, yet he could not help but be worried. This was Dust they were talking about. His Determination had grown stronger since they met him, it could rival even those from humans. Killer had never understood how Dust’s body could handle it, as it normally would make a monster melt. Maybe he should ask Dust about that someday?

He and Nightmare left the kitchen to join the rest in the living room. Neither of them were surprised that Dust had fallen asleep, but they were a little surprised he was no longer holding on to Horror. Horror sat next to him, still gliding a phalange down his skull. Dust was still shaken from the healing method, but not as much. Killer and Nightmare sat near them, Nightmare checking up on Cross again. Cross still showed no signs of waking up, and if he did not wake up soon, Nightmare was afraid they might have been too late to help him.


	13. Chapter 13

He was very confused. His skull hurt a lot. It was pounding so badly he wondered if some animal had gotten stuck inside his skull and now tried to get out. His body was sore, and he felt no rush to move. He had no idea how long he had been out, but it did not feel that long as he was still very tired. He wanted to close his eye sockets and go back to sleep, but something kept him awake. He was not sure what. His SOUL was filled with fear, and he could not understand why.

Cross opened his eye sockets. He tried to look around, and stopped rather quickly. His head started spinning when he moved his skull, making the headache even worse. His vision was blurred, so he could not see that far away. Instead he focused on where he was lying. It was something soft, which was odd. He could not remember he fell asleep on something soft. He could not remember falling asleep at all. A blanket covered his body.

What happened?

Cross’ instinct told him to find out. It was never a good sign when he woke up with no memory of what happened, nor when he had no idea where he was. It hurt to move. He managed to sit up, blinking a couple of times to clear his vision. It looked like he was in some kind of living room. It looked familiar, yet he could not remember ever being here before. It did calm him down a little, but not enough. He still needed to figure out where he was, and what was going on.

As his vision cleared, he noticed he was not the only one on this soft surface. Another skeleton was fast asleep on the other end. He was shirtless, giving Cross a perfect view of the bandages covering his back. It took a couple of seconds before Cross recognized the other skeleton, and it made him wide his eye sockets as some memories returned.

“Dust?” he rasped out.

Cross’ vision blurred as he moved, the headache felt even worse. He could not keep a groan down as he held around his skull. It hurt, it hurt a lot. He felt dizzy. It felt like the room was spinning. He closed his eye sockets again and did not notice when he started moving, not even as he got to the end of the couch and fell down. He gasped at the fall, somehow getting wrapped up in the blanket on the way down. He opened his eye sockets again, but the blanket covering his skull made him believe he was trapped in darkness. Cross’ panic increased as he failed to get free from the blanket. He felt like it was keeping him down, forcing him to stay on the ground with no way of escape. Just like that his panic took over, making him believe he was somewhere else and about to get beaten up.

Unbeknownst to him, Nightmare, Killer and Horror were in the same room as him. Horror was at the end of the couch. The exhausting had caught up to him and he was slowly falling asleep, unaware that Cross had opened his eye sockets. Nightmare and Killer were closer. Sitting on another couch and just talked, hoping Error would soon return. They both got silent as they heard someone say Dust’s name. At first they believed it was Horror, but looking over at the blood-covered skeleton revealed he was still slumped against the couch, nearly fast asleep. Before they could even think of the possibility of it being Cross, Cross fell down on the floor. The fall was enough to wake Horror up. He blinked in confusion for a moment before understanding what was going on.

Nightmare and Killer was by Cross’ side in seconds, calling out his name. Cross was saying something, his voice being muffled by the blanket. It was clear he was panicking, and they needed to calm him down before he summoned any kind of attack. No matter how weak they are, all monsters can summon an attack if they feel threatened enough. Still calling out his name, Nightmare grabbed the blanket to get Cross free from it.

Now without the blanket they could see Cross had both eye sockets shut tightly. Cross’ eye lights never blazed like theirs did, and even with his eye sockets closed, they could see how his red eye light shined brighter than it normally did, indicating he may summon an attack. Cross was trashing about, still trying to get away from the invincible threat. Sweat dripped down his skull, and with the blanket no longer there to muffle him, they could all understand what he was saying.

“N-n-no, I-I won’t s-s-say anything.” Cross gasped, the redness in his left eye light calming down a little. “No, pl-please… please, just… leave me alone.”

“Cross!” Killer was the first one to reach him, shaking him a little to get his attention.

Cross froze up at the touch, going silent. Killer was about to speak again when Cross suddenly opened his eye sockets. His eye lights were unfocused, seeing something the others did not. He sprang up, ignoring the pain in doing so, and summoned a knife to point in Killer’s direction. The end of the blade was touching Killer’s vertebra, not enough to slice him, but enough to warn him not to get any closer.

“Please… just leave me alone,” Cross pleaded, tears appearing in his eye sockets.

Killer stayed perfectly still, not wanting to scare Cross anymore. Horror went over to interfere, but Nightmare stopped him before he could.

“Stay where you are, Horror,” Nightmare said, voice low to not alarm Cross but commanding to show Horror how serious he was.

Horror obeyed, stopping mid-way in reaching Cross. Nightmare knew Cross was seeing something that was not there. He felt threatened, but also scared. He knew he was in no way shape to fight, and just the summoning of the knife had used a lot of his energy. He still managed to keep standing. Nightmare knew they had to be careful about this, for all of their safety. Cross was in a panic, and touching him only seemed to worsen it. With slow movements he walked closer to Cross, until he was standing beside the knife, still pointing at Killer.

“Cross,” Nightmare started calmly. “It’s okay. You’re back at the mansion. You’re safe. It’s okay.”

Cross did turn his skull in order to better look at Nightmare, his eye lights still unfocused. He was breathing heavily, no one knew if it was from his exhausting, fear or pain.

“That’s it, Cross, look at me. You’re back at the mansion. Remember? You’re safe; no one is going to hurt you. You’re safe.”

It was quiet. Cross blinked, something he had not done since waking up. He took deeper breaths, the fear in his soul starting to wane. He blinked again, the tears he had kept back now freely gliding down his skull. He kept looking at Nightmare as his mind tried to understand what was going on. He let the knife disappear as he blinked again, his eye lights starting to focus.

“… Nightmare?”

Nightmare smiled, feeling relief fill all of their SOULs. “Yeah, Cross, it’s me,” he said. “It’s okay, you’re no longer in any danger. You’re safe, Cross.”

Cross kept taking deep breaths. He kept eye contact with Nightmare for a moment longer, then looked around, spotting Killer and Horror as well. They all looked worried at him, which was not surprising. He could still not remember exactly what happened, but the pain going through his body told him enough. He had gotten hurt, badly. Still, something seemed off somehow, like something was missing. The memories seemed so close to him, yet he could not grasp them.

“… What happened?” he asked.

“Just relax for now, Cross. It’ll come back to ya,” Nightmare said. If he was being honest, he was not sure it would, and a part of him hoped it never did.

Cross nodded, groaning as it reminded him of his headache. “Ah, did someone hit me or something?”

“Just take it easy, Cross. Take deep breaths.”

Hearing the others stepping closer to him, Cross started to massage his skull, hoping it would somehow ease the headache. He did as he was told and continued taking deep breaths. He closed his eye sockets again, letting the feeling of safety wash over him.

“I… I remember… something,” he whispered.

His mind was still clouded, but a memory of him being held in some room entered his mind. That’s right, he had been kidnapped. He had been beating, which may explain the headache. He still felt like he was missing something, like he was forgetting something important.

He took a couple of more deep breaths. “Dust.”

Cross’s eye sockets snapped open, looking around the room in a panic. He could not locate Dust, but haven’t he just seen him? Had that just been part of the illusion? Was Dust really not here? Dust, who had been beating just as badly as he had been.

“WHERE’S DUST?!”

Cross looked around in a panic, ignoring his headache while doing so. His vision blurred nonetheless while doing so, and he failed to see Dust was in the same room as the rest of them. He was too wrapped up in his panic, worried Dust had not been as lucky as him.

Nightmare was the one to grab him, holding both of his shoulders in order to make him look at him. “Cross, calm down!” he said, trying to keep calm as well to not accidently hurt him. “Dust is here!”

Cross blinked. The tears blurred his vision too much for him to see. “I-I-I can’t see him,” he stuttered. “Where… where is he?”

Nightmare wiped the tears away from Cross, again asking him to calm down by taking deep breaths with him. It took a moment, but Cross eventually did as he was told. When Nightmare was sure Cross had cleared his vision, he showed him over to the couch, where Dust had somehow remained sleeping throughout it all.

“Dust!” Cross breathed out, ready to get closer to Dust only to be held back by Nightmare.

“Hold on a second, Cross,” Nightmare said, ignoring Cross’ attempt to get free.

“Let me go, Nightmare! I wanna see if he’s okay!”

“Cross!” Nightmare turned Cross around, and only then did Cross hold still. “You can check up on Dust, but you have to be mindful around him. I’m sure you know he went through a lot too. Those bandages on his ribs are not for show. You can go over to him, but you have to be careful.”

Cross looked down, ashamed of himself. “’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I understand you’re worried. As long as you’re careful, you can be next to him, but answer me this first; how bad is your headache?”

“Oh, um, like someone broke my skull,” Cross answered, then thought about what he said and smiled apologist. “Sorry, Horror.”

Horror waved the apology away. “No need to,” he said. “Though I now think I know how much pain you’re in.”

“Hmm, I’m afraid we can only give you some painkillers against it,” Nightmare admitted. “I doubt they’re gonna do much, if something at all, but it’s worth a try.”

Cross nodded, regretting it immediately as it reminded him of the headache.

“Alright, I’m gonna get them for you,” Nightmare said. “Go over to Dust, I know that’s all you want. Just be careful, and try not to wake him. He needs his rest. So do you, by the way.”

“I just slept for… how long was I out?”

“Doesn’t matter, I know you’re tired, Cross. Now go before I change my mind.”

Cross smiled as Nightmare let go of him to fetch the painkillers. Before he could go over to Dust, two pair of arms wrapped around him from behind. Cross’ smile widened as he leaned into the hug.

“We’re glad you’re back, Cross,” Killer said.

“Don’t you ever scare us like that,” Horror said.

“I’ll do my best,” Cross said, enjoying the hug a little longer. He could not hug them back with how they had him, but he felt he did not need to. “Thank you,” he added, “for saving us.”

“Anytime,” Horror said.

They let go of Cross, knowing he was anxious to check up on Dust. They were proven to be right as Cross immediately went over to the couch, sitting down next to Dust and being careful not to wake him. He could still not remember much, only how distraught he had been when he saw Dust had been kidnapped as well. He could not remember how badly beating Dust had been, and seeing the bandages on all of his ribs worried him. Ignoring them for now, Cross lightly touched Dust’s arm, as if making sure he was actually there.

The contact made Dust stir. He groaned into the couch’s pillows, making Cross freeze up. He was glad to see Dust awake, but he never intended to wake him. Dust remained resting on the pillow, not sure if he was ready to wake up yet. The last time he woke up was to be healed, and while he knew that was for the best in the end, he was not looking forward to be healed again, and he knew they still needed to check his eye socket, magic and SOUL. For some reason he felt like it was important to wake up. He could not shake the feeling away, and decided to open his eye sockets.

At first he saw nothing out of the ordinary, but that changed as he noticed Cross looking down at him, looking rather panicked. Dust blinked, it took him a moment to understand Cross was looking back at him, fully awake.

“Cross!” Dust pretty much yelled, ignoring how painful his back was in order to sit up and grab the X-themed skeleton.

Cross yelped as Dust pulled him down into the couch with him, but laughed as Dust wrapped his arms around him. He cried happily as he returned the hug, forgetting how bad he felt for waking him up. He felt Dust shake against him and tightened the hug, being mindful not to touch any of the ribs. Dust tightened the hug as well, almost as tightly as he held onto Horror earlier. This time he was not afraid Cross would disappear into thin air, but relieved beyond explanation at seeing Cross awake. His own memories was also a little fuzzy of his last days in captivity, but he could remember how fearful he had been of never seeing Cross wake up again, or see him turn to dust before his eyes.

They stayed like that, not even noticing when Nightmare returned with the pills. Nightmare only rolled his eye light at seeing Dust awake, not really angry about it. He knew Dust and Cross had been worried about each other, and forcing them away from each other now would be cruel. He let them be for now, walking next to Killer and Horror.

Eventually Dust and Cross let go of each other, just enough to look at each other in the eye lights. Cross gasped softly as they did so, only now noticing Dust’s damaged eye socket. “What did they do to you?” he asked.

Pain flashed in Dust’s eye lights as memories returned. He did not notice he had started crying again until Cross wiped the tears away.

“It’s okay, Dust,” Cross said. “You don’t have to tell me… It… it can be healed, right?”

At that Dust nodded, and Cross sighed in relief. The eye light did not look good and it worried him, but he tried to hide it for Dust’s sake. Before he could say anything else, Nightmare handed him a couple of painkillers. Cross thanked him and took them immediately, hoping they would ease the headache just a bit. It reminded him he had no idea how bad his own injuries were, and he felt too tired to think more about it. He leaned back into the couch’s pillows, unknowingly bringing Dust with him. The two of them fell asleep, still holding onto each other.

The sight made the rest of the gang smile. The two of them did look comfortable, but they decided to help them lay down on the couch instead to spare Dust’s ribs. Neither Dust nor Cross reacted to it, only slumped closer to each other.

***

Error had successfully procured the cream. The cream was in a very small bottle, about the same size as a shampoo sample. They could not see the color of the cream thanks to all the labels around the bottle. The text was so small they could barely read it, but one word was bigger than the rest of them on the back; a warning sign.

Dust and Cross had both woken up about an hour before he returned. Error was not only happy to see that, but also how Dust’s ribs looked after being healed. Cross still complained about having a headache. Error could only promise him it would pass by its own. He was also sure he would never regain all his memories of his captivity. The kidnappers had hit him pretty hard, and not getting all the help he needed after the blow had not helped him. Dust had been allowed to wear his T-shirt, but not his hoodie, as the gang was afraid it would press too much against the ribs. Dust understood, at the same time he missed wearing the hoodie. It just did not feel right without it.

Now came the time he dreaded; fixing the eye socket. He convinced himself it could not be worse than fixing his ribs, but now he was not so sure. The ribs were twisted back in place, this cream would, according to Error, literally melt his bone tissue. It should not be as bad as the propane torch, but that did little to nothing to calm him down.

They let him stay on the couch. Error standing before him with the cream, reading everything the small label had to offer. It was a wonder he could even read it, and Dust would not be surprised if he actually did not but just pretended to give him more time to get ready. There was not much for him to do, just do whatever Error told him to. He was more afraid of the pain that came with this than following orders.

“Okay, Dust, it’s important you do exactly what I say when I say it,” Error started. “It will mostly just be open or close your eye socket. Once we’ve started, we have to continue. You can get a break between the healing of the hole and the eye socket, but not during it. And you _have_ to stay still.”

Dust nodded. Cross sat beside him, wanting to be here for support. He had been warned Dust would not remain quiet during this, and that would not help his headache. Cross insisted he could take it, and for now they let him be. If he started showing signs of not being able to handle it, Killer had been asked to take him away. On Dust’s other side sat Horror, also being there for support and make sure he did not start to move around. He was also there in case Cross did get taken away, Dust did not see it and started to panic about that as well. Nightmare was standing beside Error, ready to help either him, Horror or Killer in any of their tasks.

Error opened the little bottle with the cream. Unlike a shampoo sample this bottle’s end was the shape of a cone. He asked Dust to keep his eye socket open as he pressed a small layer of the cream at the bottom of the eye socket. Error kept holding his skull, not hard, and looking at the eye socket. At first, Dust barely noticed the cream was on him. It was cold, but not uncomfortable. It did not take long before he felt it started to sting. Trying to get away from the pain, he tried to take his skull back, but Error reminded him to stay still. Dust did as he was asked to do, staying as still as he could. He felt Cross holding onto his arm, but stayed focused at what was expected of him.

He felt panic grip his SOUL as he felt liquid at his eye socket, believing he had started crying. Error had not said anything about what would happen if he did that, and he was now afraid he had ruined the chance of getting this healed.

“Calm down, Dust, it’s okay,” Error said softly, still mostly focusing on the eye socket but had noticed the panic in Dust’s eye light. The damaged eye light had started to glow a little more.

“O-okay,” Dust stuttered. “It just… hurts a little bit.”

“That’s normal; the cream is after all attacking you in a way. The pain should disappear soon, or at least ease, and then it will mostly just feel weird.”

Dust calmed down a bit by that. He still believed the liquid was tears, yet it never glided down from his eye socket. It was only when Error lightly touched it did he release he was not crying; the liquid was the bone tissue. He shuddered a little by that realization. Unlike the propane torch, this was colder thanks to the cream, but it still hurt him. Because there was no heat, it mostly just stung. An irritation pain he could not ignore. He did hiss a bit, but it was not as bad as he thought it would be.

The pain never went away, but it did start to ease to the point Dust barely noticed it. He understood what Error meant with it feeling weird, especially when he started to touch the melted bone tissue with a little butter knife. He scraped all of the bone tissue on the knife, then asked Dust to close his left eye socket as much as possible. Dust tensed as the butter knife touched his bonelid, once again subconsciously trying to lean back. This time it was Cross that reminded him to stay still, Error being too focused on the task. Dust stayed perfectly still as Error formed the melted bone tissue back on the rest of the bonelid. It was a nice feeling as his lid slowly came back to normal, slowly closing off the whole eye socket instead of just half of it.

“Okay,” Error said, leaning just a little back. “I need to make sure I’ve formed it correct. From here, it looks just as good as new, but I have to see it on the inside as well.”

“How are you gonna do that?” Cross asked.

“Well, I can feel it from the inside through his right eye socket. If it has chunks or is too thick some places, I can smooth it out with the knife,” Error asked and looked at Dust. “We can also take the chance and let it be. If it is not formed right on the inside, it will hurt you every time you close it, and it will not be easy to deform it from there.”

“I’ll rather have you check it now then,” Dust said.

“Okay, this is gonna feel uncomfortable.”

Dust did his best in holding the left eye socket closed while the right one was kept open. Being a skeleton monster, it did not hurt him when Error stuck a phalange into his eye socket. It was indescribable uncomfortable, but as long as Error did not touch his eye light, especially the left one, he could take it. Error felt the inside of the closed eye socket, and to Dust it felt like an eternity before he took it out again. When he did, he asked for an eye pad and carefully put it over the left eye socket. The eye pad barely touched the eye socket to not disturb the healing bone. Error then wrapped the eye pad with some bandages, tighten it enough to hold the eye pad but not press it up against the eye socket. The eye pad also made sure Dust would not open the eye socket when the bonelid was still fluid.

“There,” Error said as he finished. “You have to keep that on for at least a day. Tomorrow it should be as good as new.”

“Really?” Dust asked. It was hard to imagine it would be okay that fast.

“Positive. Now, as for the little hole here, are you ready for that to be healed now as well, or should we wait a bit?”

“I can take it now.”

Error nodded. He put some of the cream on the damaged hole along with the thin lines going down Dust’s skull. That part only got a very small layer, as it should only loose the extra bone tissue and not the whole cheekbone. This one did not take as long. Dust felt it as the small hole was filled with the burned bone tissue, and felt relieved when Error was done. Again he wanted to check how it looked on the inside as well, but he had to do it through the mouth this time. That at least did not feel as uncomfortable as the eye socket. It was still not enjoyable for either of them. When Error was satisfied with it, he wrapped the hole up as well, now no longer looking like a hole. Just like the eye pad, Dust was told he could remove it tomorrow.

“Thank you,” Dust said once Error let go of him.

“No problem,” Error said. “Call me if it starts to hurt, or if it does not look like how it should be.”

Dust nodded, thanking him again. Error packed the cream and bandages away in his hoodie’s pockets and stepped away. He noticed how Cross looked at the eye patch before a huge smile broke out on his face.

“You look like a pirate,” Cross said a little too excited, making Killer and Horror laugh.

Dust rolled his eye light. “If you didn’t still suffer from a headache, I would have slapped you across the skull,” he said, smiling.

“Oh I know. That’s why I said it.”

Error blocked out the rest of their conversation. He walked into the kitchen to put the bandages back in place. He already knew Nightmare followed him, and at first did not turn around as he started talking.

“Thank you, Error. We owe you one.”

Error chuckled, closing the closet with the bandages and medicine. “You’re starting to owe me a lot of favors,” he said. “It’s fine, Nightmare. You know I’m glad to help.”

“Yeah, still felt the need to thank you,” Nightmare admitted. “I also wanted to ask you about his SOUL and damaged eye light.”

“Well, you can either donate some magic to him or wait it out,” Error said. “Dust’s strong, so it will not hurt him to just let him heal naturedly now. Once his body had deemed it no longer needs to use magic on his ribs, it will try and heal his SOUL and eye light. If you ask me, though, I would donate some magic to him. It would be good for him and help him heal faster, and I’m sure he’s tired of feeling weak all the time.”

“Yeah, I think we’re gonna do that. Can we do it right now or should we wait?”

“You can do it now.”

“Great. About Cross; we both know he’s hiding being in pain, is there anything we can do against that?”

“Hmm… Well, there does exist methods to ease it, but I think you should just wait it out. He’s awake now, and that’s the most important thing. The headache will disappear on its own. Just make sure he takes it easy and sleep it off, and it should be gone at the latest in a couple of days.”

Nightmare nodded again, accepting the answer. He had wanted to do something to help Cross feel better sooner, but if Error deemed it was unnecessary he would accept it. He trusted him.

“Now, if you don’t need me anymore, I’ll be on my way,” Error said.

“Okay. Say to Outer from us.”

Error froze up for a second before smiling and shaking his skull. “I have been hanging out here too much if you figured that out.”

“That or I just know you that well,” Nightmare smiled. “Or you’re just that predicable.”

“That’s even worse!” Error said, smiling wider. “See ya later, Nightmare. Call me if any problems occur.”

Error teleported away after Nightmare promised he will. He stayed in the kitchen for awhile, listening to the voices of his gang in the living room. He knew Error was more exhausted than he showed, and that all this have affected him more than he let on. Nightmare also knew Error did not want to talk about it, at least with them. Error trusted them with a lot, yet emotions were not something he talked with them a lot, not even to Nightmare. Outer was still Error’s true escape, and while Nightmare hoped Error would see the gang as that as well, he was glad Error had Outer.

Returning to the living room, he was not that surprised the four gang members were still ‘arguing’. Had it not been for Dust and Cross’ injuries, he suspected they would have been fighting now. They were not as loud as they usually would be when they tried to rile each other up, and Nightmare suspected he was not the only one that had noticed how Cross was trying to hide his headache. Dust looked tired, his only visible eye light dropping every once in awhile. Nightmare considered waiting with the donation of magic until he had gotten some rest, but in the end he knew it would be better to do it now. Dust would be tired for awhile now thanks to his injuries, both on his body and SOUL, but the donation of magic to his SOUL should help him heal faster.

Nightmare gained the gangs’ attention when he returned. It took a little longer for Dust to notice him, still fighting to stay awake.

“Dust, I’d like to donate some magic to you before you fall asleep,” Nightmare said.

“’m not tired,” Dust said.

No one believed him, yet they let him believe it. If any of them said anything, Dust would likely just fight his exhausting even more.

“Okay, could you summon your SOUL for me?” Nightmare said.

Dust blinked a couple of times before doing what he was told. He placed his hand on his T-shirt where his SOUL was hidden underneath. He breathed deeply as he summoned the SOUL, using more energy than he normally would. The SOUL casted their surroundings in a red color as it was being summoned. Dust’s SOUL looked like a normal monster SOUL, except it glowed red and purple. At the moment it glowed more red than purple, showing everyone how determined it was to keep Dust alive. The cracks on the SOUL looked the same, having not spread thanks to the Determination. Nightmare had never figured out how Dust could be as determined as he was without melting. A monster should not be able to hold that much Determination without melting, yet Dust had never shown any signs of it, not even now. The color red presented Determination, yet he knew it did not in Horror’s case. Killer had Determination as well, but not as much as Dust. He was not sure if Cross had Determination, as one of his eye lights were red. He knew it presented Chara, and Chara had Determination. He was not sure if that meant Cross had it as well.

Nightmare did not understand, but he was not complaining. Had it not been for that Determination, Dust would have been dead by now. His SOUL refused to die, and was holding on as long as it could. It did not glow as much as when they found him, probably not using as much energy anymore.

Dust handed the SOUL to Nightmare, once again showing the leader how much he trusted him. No matter how determined Dust may be, Nightmare could easily kill him with the SOUL in his hands. Not wanting to waste any time, Nightmare started to concentrate on giving Dust some magic. A blue glow appeared at Nightmare’s hand, and slowly made its way up to the red SOUL. Nightmare made sure to keep an eye on it in case the SOUL did not accept it. If it did not, it would use energy to refuse it, and Nightmare would be forced to stop.

At first nothing happened, as if the SOUL was determining whether or not it needed it. Then it started to glow a little brighter as it absorbed some of the blue glow, becoming a purple shade as the colors connected. When the SOUL no longer absorbed any more, it once again settled back to its normal red color with a hint of purple. Noticing this, Nightmare stopped the donation and handed Dust his SOUL back. The cracks that once threatened to break the SOUL apart had mostly faded away. There were still some cracks present, but they were very thin and should disappear soon as well.

Dust put the SOUL back in place, feeling the effect the magic had on his SOUL. He already felt better, having never realized how much magic he used on keeping his SOUL from breaking apart. “Thanks Nightmare,” he said. “That was refreshing… and a little weird.”

“That’s normal,” Nightmare said, glad at how well the SOUL took it, and a little surprised it healed itself that quickly.

Dust was about to lean back against the couch, but remembered the state of his ribs and stopped midway. It would take some time before he got used to that. He had no idea how long it would be before his ribs would be completely healed, he just hoped it would not take too long. He was still tired, and did not notice when he leaned his skull against Cross. No one said anything to it, and slowly the conversation around him started to fade as he fell asleep.

Cross was tired as well. He had for the most part gotten used to the headache. His body was still tired after everything it had been through, but with Dust leaned up against him the way he was, he was afraid to move to get in a more comfortable position. The others noticed this, but just like Dust if Cross was told he could just go to sleep, he would try even harder to stay awake. Instead they convinced Cross he should lay down to rest his skull and body better. Cross was too tired to find it suspicious and gladly followed as the others helped him to lie down, while making sure Dust was not disturbed and placed next to him.

Cross fought to keep his eye sockets open. His eye lights were hazy and barely any light was left in them. His internal battle to stay awake did not go unnoticed by the others, and Nightmare was the one who walked closer to him. The movement caught Cross’ attention, and he blinked in surprise before moving the eye lights to look up at him.

“Cross, go to sleep. You need to get some rest,” Nightmare said.

Cross shook his skull as much as he could. The movement disturbed Dust for a moment. Everyone held their breath as he snuggled closer to Cross in his sleep, afraid he was waking up. He sighed contently in his new position, remaining in his slumber.

“… I… don’t want to,” Cross mumbled, looking down at Dust’s sleeping form. “Don’t wanna… leave him.”

“You’ll still be here when he wakes up,” Nightmare answered, gently petting the top of Cross’ skull. “And he’ll still be here when you wake up. It’s okay, Cross, you’re both safe now.”

Cross did not answer, not even sure he heard everything Nightmare said. The hand on his skull felt nice, easing his headache and reminding him where he was. With his injuries forgotten, at least for the moment, Cross fell asleep as well, happy that he and Dust was home, and that Dust would heal from his injuries.

The rest of the gang smiled as they watched Cross fall asleep. What he and Dust had been through was horrible. They still had no idea why they were captured in the first place, and they were not sure if they should ask for fear it would bring Dust and Cross back to their living nightmare. They could only hope the two of them would recover from this, both physically and mentality. They knew all of their wounds would heal, only leaving scars in their wake. What worried them was how mentality damaged they really were. Dust and Cross seemed to be fine, but they were both good at hiding how they really felt. Maybe they have not gotten the chance to figure out how damaged they truly were? Since being rescued, they have either slept or being healed, not giving a lot of time to remember what had happened.

For now, the gang could do nothing but hope Dust and Cross would recover fully. That their mentality had not been too scarred by this, especially Dust, as he had once again believed his brother was there with him.

Nightmare, Killer and Horror all found a place near the couch to watch over the sleeping skeletons. It did not take long before Horror fell asleep as well, slumped against the chair he had been sitting on. Killer brought him to his room, figuring Horror would be more comfortable there. Horror may have healed fully from his own injuries, but he was still sore some places, and sleeping on a chair would not help him.

When Killer returned, he went back to his own chair and found his phone. He texted a while with Color, explaining what had happened and once again thanking him for what he did. About ten minutes later, Killer could not fight his own exhausting and fell asleep as well. Nightmare wondered if he should bring Killer to his room or not. In the end he decided to let him be, figuring that would be for the best.

Nightmare looked back at Dust and Cross, still snuggled close together and sleeping soundly. He hoped they would remain like that the whole night, as they both needed it. He doubted they had slept much while they had been held captured, being kept awake either by their kidnappers or their own fears. He hoped they would remain peacefully asleep for the rest of the night.

Fate did not grant him that wish. Nightmare fell asleep not long after, no longer able to fight his exhausting. For several hours, the only sound throughout the whole mansion was the sound of soft snoring. Then, deep into the dead of night, Nightmare was awoken by a muffled scream, negative energy filled the room.


	14. Chapter 14

Nightmare woke up to the sound of a muffled scream. It was not that loud, and for a moment he thought it had just been part of whatever dream he had been trapped in. Then he noticed the negative energy in the room. It blinded him for a second as he felt the energy making him stronger physically. He rarely wakes up feeling like that. He ignored the energy in order to look around, trying to figure out where it was coming from. When his gaze landed on Dust, he felt everything coming back to him.

Dust had let go of Cross at some point during the night, lying on his side facing the couch. He was shaking violently, his bones making this rattling sound while doing so. He choked out unintelligible words, whispering something Nightmare could not hear from his position. A red glow illuminated the material of the couch, casting it in an eerily luster. Dust must believe he was in danger, as he had tried not to use any magic since the damage to his eye light. It was a miracle he had not woken Killer or Cross with how he was shaking, screaming and whimpering.

Nightmare snapped to attention, forgetting his drowsiness and the negative energy in the room. He went next to Dust, wondering what would be the best solution to this. He could try and wake him, but he was afraid Dust would wake up in a panic and wake the others. He could try to remove Dust and wake him somewhere else, that way he would not wake the others. Nightmare turned down that idea as well. If by chance Cross would wake up while they were gone, he would undoubtedly panic without Dust beside him. He could also try and banish the nightmare.

“Please… just… just leave me alone… please.”

Now being this close to him, Nightmare was able to understand some of the words Dust was saying. Another strangle sound filled the room, and Nightmare decided he had to wake him. He may wake Killer and Cross in the process, but he doubted either one of them would mind once they found out what was going on.

“Dust,” Nightmare said, tone even in a way to calm the other skeleton down. “Wake up, Dust. You’re having a nightmare.”

Dust did not seem to hear him as he did not react to his voice. He continued shaking, trembling and mumbling. He scooted closer to the couch, as if he was trying to get away from something, or someone.

“… s-stop… please… leave me alone… I… I-I won’t tell you… anything! Just… leave me alone… please.”

Dust’s pleas were becoming louder as the nightmare continued. At some point he acted out, hitting Cross while doing so. Cross woke up, blinking confused as his eye lights got used to the darkness. For a moment he did not understand why he had woken up, until he heard the despair from the skeleton beside him.

“Dust?” he said, the drowsiness leaving him when Dust’s only answer was a whimper. He noticed Nightmare beside him, clearly having tried to wake Dust. Understanding what was going on, Cross sat up from the couch in order to shake Dust awake. He tried as gently as possible, not wanting to startle the still sleeping skeleton.

Dust froze at the touch, becoming quiet as well. He was still breathing heavily, and for a moment Cross thought the touch may have calmed him down. Nightmare knew better. The negative energy in the room grew heavier, and he had no time to warn Cross to let go. No one noticed when Dust’s visible eye socket shot open, but they did notice how the red light from it became brighter. Without warning, he jumped up from the couch and send Cross flying with his magic. Two gasps filled the room; one from Cross for hitting the floor and one from Dust for using his magic. Dust’s eye light was unfocused, showing he was still trapped in whatever nightmare he was having. He was scared, leaning as much against the couch as he possible could, not caring how much it hurt his back while doing so.

Nightmare stayed where he was. He had been ready to check if Cross was okay, but the X-themed skeleton already assured he was fine before he could ask. The impact had hurt him, not because he hit the ground that hard, but because of his sore bones. It was not anything he could not handle. His worry for Dust shadowed any pain the impact gave him. Despite being worried, Cross stayed on the floor, convinced getting closer to Dust would not be a good idea.

Killer woke up at the sound of Cross hitting the floor. He was confused for a moment, not remembering he had falling asleep in the first place, but the sight of a panicked Dust and a possible hurt Cross made him remember everything. He was about to go over to Cross to make sure the other was not hurt, but Nightmare stopped him.

“Stay where you are, Killer,” Nightmare called out, not that loud in case it would scare Dust even more. “Dust is trapped in a nightmare. Movement may frighten him even more.”

It was a tough order to follow, but Killer nodded and stayed put, making sure not to say anything. After making sure both Killer and Cross stayed where they were, Nightmare turned his attention back on Dust.

“Dust?”

“No!” Dust yelled out, hissing as he pressed his back further into the couch. “He’s… alive… not dead… I… I-I-I won’t s-s-ay any-anything.”

“He’s alive,” Nightmare repeated in a whisper, then widened his eye light in understanding. “Horror.” He looked over at Killer again. “Killer, I need you to find Horror. Now.”

Killer nodded and was gone in a flash, appearing in Horror’s room. Horror woke up with a start as Killer grabbed him. He gasped, for a second believing he was being attacked, until he noticed who was touching him.

“Killer? Wha-?”

Killer did not answer him. Instead he teleported them both to the living room, still not letting go of Horror when they arrived. Horror blinked a couple of times as he suddenly found himself at another location. Sleep had not fully left him yet, and he was not sure if Killer actually answered him or not. With the background he had, Horror was prepared to take action when necessary, and not let anything like sleep keep him from becoming aware. Noticing his surroundings, it did not take long for him to understand the situation. Dust was pressed against the couch, unintentionally hurting his ribs. He held his hands together like he believed he still wore the handcuffs. He stuttered a lot, and Horror’s tired mind did not catch everything he said. He understood enough to know Dust thought he was back with his torturers. Killer let go of Horror without any fight when the other started moving. Horror approached Dust carefully, trying to understand exactly what mindset Dust was in. Dust noticed his presence and whimpered, begging him to leave him alone.

“… Pl-please… l-l-leave me a-alone,” Dust begged as tears escaping his eye socket.

“Dust, it’s okay. You’re not in any danger,” Horror said.

Dust whimpered again and shook his skull. “’m not… saying… anything… you can’t… make me.”

Dust was obliviously hearing something else than what was being said. Horror slowly moved closer to him. “Dust, look at me,” he said, gently grabbing each side of his skull to make the other look at him. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m right here, everyone is right here. You’re not in any danger, you’re safe. Whatever you’re seeing is not real, Dust.”

Dust blinked, something Horror had not seen him during through all this. He groaned at the pain from his ribs and leaned a little forward, no longer letting them touch the couch. He blinked again, the visions from the nightmare slowly disappearing, replaced by a red eye light that could always comfort him, always make him feel safe. He was still shaking, and feared Horror was actually the vision instead of his nightmare.

“… Horror?” he said through a sob. “What…?”

Horror smiled, relief filled his SOUL. “That’s right, Dust. I’m right here,” he said, wiping some of the tears away from his cheekbones. “You were having a nightmare, but everything’s fine. You’re safe, Dust. Take deep breaths. It’s okay.”

Dust tried to do as he was told, but did not manage to take deep breaths because of his shaking body. It came out rather stuttering, yet it seemed the desired effect and calmed him down. He blinked again, only now noticing how alight his eye socket was. Because only his right eye socket was visibly, it did not light up as much as the left did, but it was enough for Dust to realize he had been ready to attack. The thought scared him as much as the nightmare had.

“Dust?” Horror asked in concern.

“I… I didn’t… hurt anyone… did I?” Dust asked, fear filling his eye light again.

Horror could not answer that, as he had not been here for that long. When he arrived, he had not taking a minute to look at Nightmare and Cross. He knew Killer did not seem to be hurt, only worried. He was not sure about the other two, and he was a little ashamed he had not taking the time to look at them.

Cross had gotten up from the floor. “Nope,” he lied, not wanting to make Dust feel even worse. “You, uh, only threatened us not to come any closer.” His sore bones would beg to differ, but Cross ignored the pain from them. He could rest later.

Dust did not answer, still afraid of what he may have done. He could not spot any injuries on any of them, and his mind was too tired to think they may be hiding something from him. He accepted the answer with a sigh of relief, leaning into Horror when the other pulled him closer. He was tired. He had no idea what he had done while having the nightmare. He doubted he had done much, but right now it felt like he had been running around for hours. Despite how tired he was, Dust refused to let his eye socket close, too afraid his sleep would once again be plagued by nightmares.

Horror, on the other hand, felt the adrenaline leaving his body as quickly as it came, leaving him exhausted once again. The constant worry and not being able to get a good night’s rest since Dust and Cross had been kidnapped was getting to him, and the thought that it was still in the middle of the night did not help. He was sitting against the couch, holding Dust close to his side. Horror had never noticed until now how soft the couch actually was. Try as he might, he could not fight the exhausting and eventually fell asleep.

Dust only snuggled closer to Horror as the other fell asleep, not the least bit bothered by it. Horror was a skeleton monster that kept the breathing act up while he slept despite not needing to. He had never explained why, as he was not sure he knew the answer, but it was a habit now, and not something he felt he could control anymore. At the moment Dust had never been more thankful for it, as it reminded him Horror was really alive. Listening to his breathing while also feeling the warmth from his SOUL through the T-shirt calmed him down. He still refused to fall asleep.

Cross moved over and sat down beside Dust. With the way Dust was lying, he could not lie against Dust without fearing he would hurt him on accident. Instead, he sat close enough to touch Dust with his leg, making sure the other knew he was far from alone. Dust smiled at that, and placed a hand on Cross’s leg in thanks. It did not stay there for long, as it was a rather uncomfortable position, but it was enough to let Cross get the message.

At first, Nightmare thought the three of them fell asleep, but taking a closer look he discovered only Horror had falling asleep. Cross seemed pretty awake, and with the fall he had taken that was not too surprising. His body might still think he was in danger, and Cross was not good at convincing it when it was okay to calm down. Dust was another story. It was clear he was doing everything he could to stay awake, and so far it seemed to be working.

“Dust,” Nightmare whispered not to wake Horror. “You should get some more sleep.”

Dust shook his skull as much as he could in his current position. “Don’t wanna,” he said.

“Dust-.”

“Please, Nightmare. I… don’t wanna see that again,” Dust said so low they could barely hear him. He sounded so scared, voice so weak it almost did not sound like him.

“… Alright,” Nightmare said, deciding to let Dust be for now. With how exhausted he looked, Nightmare would not be surprised if he fell asleep at some point. If he managed to stay awake for the rest of the night, Dust would most likely sleep the following day away.

Nightmare noticed how Cross once again tried to hide being in pain from the headache. Sighing tiredly to himself, he went into the kitchen to fetch a couple of painkillers. He hoped that headache truly did disappear soon. While Nightmare was away, Cross waved Killer over to sit next to him. Once he was seated, Cross leaned closer to him, all the while making sure he still touched Dust.

“Hey Killer, could you talk about something?” Cross asked.

“Like what?” Killer whispered to make sure he did not worsen Cross’s headache, and may help Dust fall asleep.

“Anything,” Cross answered, resting his skull on the other’s shoulder. “Like… how did you find us?”

“Heh, well, it was not easy.”

Cross listened to what Killer said, slowly getting more tired. When Nightmare returned, he gladly accepted the painkillers. At some point during the tale, Cross fell asleep, most likely not going to remember much of what Killer had said. Both Nightmare and Killer knew that, and none of them really cared. If it helped Cross get some more rest, they were not going to question it. It took about an hour longer before Dust could not fight his own exhausting anymore and fell asleep as well, this time able to sleep for the rest of the night without being disturbed.

***

Three weeks passed before both Dust and Cross were deemed fully healed. Cross’ headache faded into nothing after a couple of days. He could not describe how relieved he was when it finally disappeared. He had gotten so used to it he barely noticed it in the end, until it was gone. He could not understand how he had been able to ignore it for so long. With the help from the others and a mirror, he was able to see the scars the cracks had left him on the skull. They were not that noticeable, not that it mattered anyway, as Cross always wore his hood. It felt good to finally wear that again. His injuries across his entire body were another story. They healed a lot slower, much to his dismay. Because of the headache he had not been allowed to do much, not even draw, as it would require a lot of concentration on his part. When the headache was gone he thought he would finally be allowed to leave with the others, but he was denied that thanks to his injuries. Those injuries may have healed, but they were still pretty sore and would slow him down. It was best to still take it easy and stay at the mansion. Cross hated not being able to do anything. He had not been able to train since he got kidnapped, and now he was not allowed to do it. The others found his annoyance quite amusing. It was only in the middle of the second week of his healing that his injuries were fully healed, no longer being sore. He was still not allowed to train.

Dust was not as lucky. The bruises and cuts healed at the same time as Cross’ injuries, but not his back. The bandages on his ribs required to be replaced every other day as they continued to bleed. After the first week that was no longer necessary, but the ribs did still not seem to get better. Dust was worried the pain would never fade, but Nightmare was always there to reassure him it would. His ribs had been through a lot, and it would take time for them to get back to normal, despite being back in place and the healing magic. To everyone’s relief his eye socket did not take as long to recover. The day after Error had healed them, they removed the eye pad and bandages on his skull. Everyone held their breath while Dust tested it out, blinking rapidly and touching the spot the hole once had been. No matter what he did, the bone tissue stayed in place, like it had never been melted in the first place. Relief filled all of their SOULs at that, and Dust was especially relieved that he once again could close both eye sockets fully. When Dust tried to use magic, it no longer hurt him to do so, but he could not use magic for long periods of time, as his SOUL still required the magic to fully heal. It made Dust tired most of the time, and he almost slept the whole first week away. It was during the second week of healing his SOUL and magic was fully healed as well. It took another before his ribs were fully healed.

The mental scars were another obstacle. Cross’ memories of the event never fully returned to him. Nightmares woke him up several times, and no matter how much he tried, he could never remember them. He had a few memories of being held captive, mostly about being alone. He had a faint memory of waken up next to Dust, but he was not sure if it was really a memory or just part of a dream.

Dust suffered from nightmares even more. Several times during the night he would call out in his sleep, begging the kidnappers to leave him alone, saying Horror was not dead, begging Cross to wake up and begging Nightmare and Killer to find him. Sometimes these nightmares would wake him up in a cold sweat, and it would take someone from the gang to remind him he was safe. Now everyone could bring him back, and not just Horror.

Nightmare tried to keep the nightmares away from him, but the experience was too fresh on his mind to do so. He could ease them for awhile, make them leave him alone the first couple of hours, but they would always find a way to plague Dust. As time went on, the nightmares started to appear less and less, to everyone’s relief. Neither Dust nor Cross was left alone at any time, especially while they slept.

Nightmare, Killer and Horror feared this experience would damage them, change them forever. But as Dust and Cross regained their strength, so did their personality. Cross would whine every time he was denied training, even tried to sneak out sometimes. He would always get caught before he reached the door. Dust started to joke around again, even about the injuries he had had and what he had been through. As his strength returned, he would complain about having nothing to do. He also started to joke about being the new king of the mansion, as the gang would always fetch him what he needed when he asked for it.

Despite returning to their normal selves, some scars would never leave them. One day while they had been walking down the hallway, the sound of a shelf broken down was heard, closely followed by the sound of several metal related items falling to the floor. Horror cursed loudly as he sprinted to his room, and the others laughed as they figured out the shelf holding Horror’s weapon collection could no longer hold the pressure. Dust and Cross had both laughed as Horror ran away, but both froze up at a very familiar sound. Chains fell to the floor as well, their sound echoing throughout the hallway, chilling Dust and Cross to the core. Cross recovered quickly, as he reminded himself he was no longer wearing chains or handcuffs. He held around his ulna and radius bones to prove it to himself. Dust started panicking, suddenly seeing the prison cell instead of the hallway. Nightmare managed to calm him down, but the sound returned, sending Dust back into his memories. As Nightmare and Cross tried to calm Dust down, Nightmare ordered Killer to find Horror and made him leave the weapons.

They luckily had not had an incident like that since. Horror managed to hide the weapons with chains, and for now he was not allowed to use them. Nightmare knew they one day had to make Dust face his new fear of chains, but for now that could wait.

One day Cross had been allowed to go with Killer to fetch some supplies. Cross enjoyed every minute of it, though he missed having the rest of the gang with them. It was nice to get out of the mansion and walk around. Cross could go outside of the mansion, but when he did, he would see the place he usually trained, and it reminded him how crazy he felt for not being able to train.

While looking for supplies with Killer, Cross spotted a music store and was reminded of the day he and Dust was kidnapped. He remembered how happy Dust had been at playing the guitar, but had tried to play it down and say he did not need to do that again. Cross asked Killer if they could buy a guitar for Dust, and after explaining why, Killer agreed. Dust was going crazy at having nothing to do, and the guitar may help entertain him. Dust had been surprised when they handed him the guitar, but accepted it with a smile. It proved to be a good idea, as Dust used a lot of his recovery time to play the guitar. He was still rusty for not playing for years, and that only made him keep going, as it annoyed him he had used so much time to learn it.

Now Dust and Cross were sitting in the living room. Cross was drawing on the floor, coloring the latest sketch he had made. Dust was sitting on the couch, finally able to lean his back against it without hurting it. He played a calming tune on the guitar, making the melody fill the room. It was quite calming, but after awhile Dust became bored of it. Looking down at Cross, he smiled as he started playing a different tune, one that kept on going from being calm to fast, loud to quiet. Cross rolled his eye lights as he listened to it. He knew Dust did it to distract him, and he was not glad at admitting he was succeeding. He could probably ignore it in the end, but falling for Dust’s distraction could be fun.

Putting on a glare, he looked up at Dust. “Would you stop that?” he asked.

“What?” Dust asked, pretending he did not know what the other was talking about. “I’m just sitting here, playing a little melody.”

“Uh-huh. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a melody sound like that.”

“You’re not a musician, so what do you know?”

“Hmm, you’re right, I’m not. I did enjoy the first one a lot more.”

“Yeah, it was calming. You know what it also was? Boring. I’m just challenging myself.”

Cross smiled, having lost the glare a long time ago. “You’re such a bonehead, Dust.”

Dust laughed. “You should talk.”

Nightmare kept an eye on them nearby. He smiled slightly at their ‘bickering’, happy they once again did that. It had been quiet without the two of them, and he could only imagine how it would be when they were allowed to move around again. Nightmare wondered for a moment if he would then miss the silence.

Dust and Cross talked happily to each other, having moved on from the guitar to something else. It was nice to see them like that again. For a while Nightmare had thought they would never be themselves again. They have always had a close bond, and after what they had been through, their bond had grown even stronger. Nightmare was glad for that, but the reason how it had grown stronger angered him. Not at them, never at them.

When Nightmare cooled down, he noticed how Dust and Cross had gone quiet. Looking back at them, he saw how Cross was looking away, clearly having something on his mind but not sure if he should say it. Dust rose from the couch and abandoned the guitar on it, meeting Cross down on the floor.

“What is it, Cross?” he asked, voice soft.

“I…” Cross was not sure how to explain it. He had watched Dust wake up screaming so many times; screaming at them in fear, begging for them to come rescue him, and Cross had always felt so helpless in those situations. What could he say? He did not understand what Dust was going through despite being there himself. He hated how he could not remember what happened.

“Cross?”

“I just wished I could help you more,” Cross admitted.

“What do you mean? You’ve helped me plenty. Heck, you gave me something to do while I’m still recovering.”

“Yeah, I just… wished I understood what you’re going through. I wish I knew how to help you. I…”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Cross. How many times haven’t you brought me back when I was trapped in a nightmare? Or helped me change the bandages on my back? Or getting the things I needed?”

“… Well, yeah, I can do that, but I wish I could help you more mentality. I could do that if I understood what you’re going through. But I can’t. I can’t remember much of what happened. I barely remember seeing you there and I just… wish I did, so I could help you better.”

“Cross,” Dust said, forcing the other to look at him by gently grabbing his skull. “I understand that, I really do, but you know what?” he smiled. “I’m glad you can’t remember. What happened was… terrible, and I know they only beat you up, but if they didn’t knock you out, you would probably had gone through the same thing I did, and… and if I saw them torturing you the way they did me, I’m sure they would have broken me. I would have told them everything they wanted to know if there was a chance they would have left you alone.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“I would,” Dust insisted. “I would feel bad about it, but… I don’t want anything like that happen to you.”

Cross looked up, his expression full of sorrow. “I didn’t want it happening to you.”

Dust smiled. “None of us did, but it happened, and it’s over now. You shouldn’t feel bad for something you could not control, Cross.”

Cross still felt bad for not remembering anything, and he wished he could, but no matter how much he tried, he could not. He could never remember his own nightmares, and it frustrated him. Instead of answering, Cross wrapped his arms around Dust and rested his skull on his chest.

“You didn’t deserve it,” Cross whispered, tears escaping his eye lights.

Dust smiled slightly, holding around Cross as well. He did not answer, just comforted the X-themed skeleton. Cross was shaking, refusing to let go of Dust. The frustration of not being able to remember along with the imagine of how Dust got his injuries came crashing down, and he needed to make sure Dust was actually there with him. He was safe, they both were.

Nightmare watched the two of them holding each other, hearing Cross’ sobs fill the room. He decided to leave them alone, knowing they could take care of each other. Dust may not be fully healed, but he was more than capable of comforting Cross, and right now he suspected Dust was the only one that could calm Cross down.

***

The gang found them outside the mansion and in the forest close by, a fireplace surrounding them to keep them warm. Unknowingly to Dust and Cross, the gang planned on letting them train again tomorrow, seeing how much this has ruined their skills, if at all. They suspected they could not keep up with them just yet, but they had to start training them up at some point, and now that their injuries were fully healed along with their states of mind, it would be a perfect time to bring them back on the training field. They knew Cross would be overjoyed when they told him.

It was evening, the stars covering the sky like the spots on a jaguar. They shined down on all of them along with a full moon, not needing the fire to make them see but to keep them warm. They sat comfortable and enjoyed each other’s company, Killer and Horror talking about how they found Dust and Cross. Cross felt a sudden feeling of déjà vu from the tale, like he’d heard it before, but he could not remember when. It was interesting to hear how they had gotten to the point they would send Color to the Multivoid to search for answers. They were even more shocked over the fact that it worked.

Dust and Cross did not talk much about what they had been put through. With their injuries it was not necessary, and Nightmare, Killer and Horror did not push them. As a silence settled between them, Nightmare thought it all over. He still had no idea what that Sans and Papyrus wanted with Dust and Cross. Thinking back to their nightmares, both Dust and Cross had both yelled how they refused to talk. Clearly the kidnappers wanted information, but of what?

“I’ve been meaning to ask you two,” Nightmare broke the silence, looking at Dust and Cross. “Do you know what they wanted with you? Did they ever say that?”

Dust and Cross blinked in unison, thinking about Nightmare’s question. “They… they wanted to know the hideout’s location,” Cross answered.

“For what?” Horror asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe to get to you guys too.”

Dust frowned slightly, remembering the early days of his kidnapping. “They said something about confronting you,” he said.

“Confronting me?” Nightmare repeated.

“Yeah,” Dust said. “I guess… They did want to be part of the Star Sans’, so maybe they thought if they got you, they would join them. I don’t know, Nightmare, they didn’t say much.”

Nightmare nodded. That did make sense. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Should we be worried this Justice Sans is still alive?” Killer asked.

“Is he though? Maybe we just didn’t find his pile of dust,” Horror said.

“I… I think he’s still alive,” Dust said. “I do remember killing Fairness, but not Justice. That was the whole reason I walked around in the woods. I wanted to find him… I didn’t.”

Everyone shared a look with each other, not sure what to think of that.

“Well, for now let’s let it be,” Nightmare said. “While I would love to find him, searching for him seems like a waste of time. We don’t know where he could be, and who knows? Maybe he returns someday of his own. And if he does, we’ll be ready for him.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind seeing him again,” Dust admitted, smiling widely while his left eye light glowed brighter.

“Me neither,” Cross said, smiling as well. “I would like to have a little _talk_ with him.”

Their reactions pleased the others. During their recover, they could not mention their kidnappers without being scared. Now, they were ready to return the favor if they ever saw Justice again. While they all wanted to give him back for what he did to Dust and Cross, they did not want to search for him, knowing he could be anywhere now.

There was still something that bothered Nightmare. “Why didn’t you just tell them?” he asked. “You could have saved yourself a lot of injuries that way.”

“I could not betray you like that,” Cross said. “And the hideout is our home. I’m afraid what they would have done to it, or the rest you, if I gave them what they wanted.”

“Cross, you would not have betrayed any of us,” Nightmare insisted. “And the hideout may be our home, but it’s replaceable. You two are not.”

Cross smiled thankful at that. He did not regret his actions, but he did not reveal that.

“… They would have killed us if we told them,” Dust said, gaining everyone’s attention. “If we told them what they wanted to know, we would no longer be useful to them. I don’t know what they told you, Cross, but they always promised me they would release me if I said anything. Heh, they should have considered their strategy before almost killing Horror.”

Understanding appeared in everyone’s eye lights. “Yeah, they promised me that as well,” Cross admitted. “I never believed them… Dust is right. That knowledge was the only thing keeping us alive.”

That did make sense. The kidnappers had been ready to kill them all, believing they had already killed Horror. If they could kill Horror without a second thought, the chances of them releasing Dust and Cross would be zero. They had no intention on keeping that promise, and Dust saw through it. Cross might have as well, but if he had to be honest, he could not remember.

What this had teached them all was not to underestimate other monsters. Nightmare’s gang had a bad reputation, and with what they did, there was always a chance some people or monsters would seek them out. Justice and Fairness had not kidnapped Dust and Cross for revenge, but had figured out the connection to Nightmare. The gang now knew that even while it may show weakness, they had to retreat if their situation starts to look grim, and they should consider it if their opponents separates them. They would rather look weak than experience anything like this again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a chance I'll make Justice come back. If I do, I doubt it's gonna be a long story like this one. I have an idea, but I'm not sure it'll turn into something. I will not promise it's gonna happen, but there is a chance.


	15. Epilogue

Cross smiled as brightly as when someone told him he could have chocolate. It was in the middle of the day, and Nightmare had declared they should have a training exercise, all of them. It took a moment for Cross to get it, but when he did, he cheered loudly and ran outside, yelling after the others to follow him. The rest of the gang laughed at their youngest member’s excitement.

Nightmare went after Cross right away to make sure the X-themed skeleton did not do something too complicated already. He was a little surprised at finding Cross standing on their training ground, perfectly still and waiting for the others to catch up. He did not complain, however. Killer, Horror and Dust showed up as well, Killer and Horror was pretty much dragging Dust with them. Dust whined, pretending to still be in pain and not ready to train just yet. When Cross spotted him, he ran over, grabbed his arm and dragged him the rest of the way.

“Come on, Dust, it’s gonna be fun,” Cross said.

Dust rolled his eye lights, letting him be dragged. He would never admit it, but he was actually excited to do this as well. It had been a long time since he fought, feeling the adrenaline that came with it. The last time was with the kidnappers, and he could not remember that battle so well. He had not exactly been sane when it happened.

“I’m not sure we have the same description of fun,” Dust said.

“You know you enjoy it,” Cross answered.

“You clearly don’t me.”

Before Cross could answer, Nightmare stepped in. “Okay you two, enough,” he said with a smile. “I’m thinking we’re gonna start slow and let you two fight each other while another keep an eye socket on you, just in case.”

“Arh, I don’t know Nightmare, I still feel a slight sting in my back. Maybe my ribs aren’t that healed after all,” Dust said.

“Dust, I know you’re trying to get out of this and I’m not falling for it,” Nightmare said. “Now get going.” He smiled a little sadistic. “We need to get the two of you back in shape, after all.”

Dust’s groan could be heard throughout the whole Au. “I knew I should have enjoyed my ‘king status’ some more,” he grumbled, turning towards Cross. “Okay kid, guess I’m gonna be your opponent.”

“Oh, you’re pain suddenly disappeared, huh, Dusty?” Cross teased.

“Don’t call me that.”

“If you’re gonna call me kid then I’m gonna call you Dusty.”

“… Dusty it is then.”

Cross laughed, getting into position. The two of them began training, mostly blocking each other’s attack with either a knife or a bone. None of them moved around that much, nor attacked as fiercely as they normally would. Dust blocked another attack, and hissed as he was forced to step back as he came into a position that bended his back a bit too much.

Cross stopped the attack immediately. “You okay?” he asked worriedly.

“’m fine,” Dust said, straightening his back and smiled. “Be careful, though. I’m a wounded skeleton.”

Cross noticed how relaxed Dust’s smile was. It did not show any pain whatsoever. “Are you just saying that to get out of this?”

“Maybe.”

“Come _on_ , Dust, this is fun!” Cross said. “We’re finally able to train again. This is awesome!”

Dust stared at him for a moment before shaken his skull. “And people think you’re the sanest one in the group,” he said, still smiling. “If they heard you say that, I’m sure they’d think you’re crazier than all of us put together.”

“Please, I could never be as insane as you.”

“Says the skeleton who loves to train.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who was worried about suddenly seeing Horror follow him around,” Cross said before he thought it over. He widened his eye sockets slightly, not sure how Dust would react to that. They had joked around about the whole kidnapping experience. It had helped them move on, but they had not talked about Dust seeing his brother again that much.

Dust chuckled, not getting offended by the comment. “Heh, can’t deny that,” he said. “Could you imagine that? Horror’s phantom following you around? That would be _Horror_ -fying.”

Cross somehow managed to glare at him while smiling brightly. “You’re such a numbskull,” Cross said. “But don’t worry, ulna’t tell anyone.”

Dust chuckled. “At last you’ve joined the dark side.”

“Or I’ve finally lost my mind. I blame you for that,” Cross smiled. He laughed again as Dust winked at him. “Are you sure you’re not insane?” he added with a teasing smile.

“Now that you mention it, I do feel a little weird,” Dust said, smiling to show he was still joking around. He looked to his side, pretending to be alarmed. “Oh no, my brother is back, and he’s telling me to kill you! I’m sorry, Cross, but I have to get stronger.”

Cross screamed in fake terror as Dust ran after him, chasing him around the training field. “Guys! Help! Dust is gonna kill me!” he yelled to the others as they ran past them.

“Come back here! Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick,” Dust yelled after him.

Nightmare, Killer and Horror watched Dust chase Cross around, no one having the SOUL to stop them. It was enjoyable seeing them acting like that, and a delight to see them able to fool around again.

Despite what they had been through, Dust and Cross were not broken, had never truly been broken, and never will be. This has only strengthened their bond, making them stronger, both physically and mentally. No matter how evil they might seem to be, no matter how soulless they may appear, they were not. They stood together, ready to defend each other even if their life was at stake. They lived together, they fought together, and no matter what happened to one of them, the others would find him or die trying. No matter what happened, they had each other’s back. If someone dared to mess with one of them, they would mess with all of them.

And no one could take that away from them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this story is ending with a nice little epilogue. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Just a side note; when Cross says "ulna't", it's a pun for 'I will not' (the ulna is a long bone in the forearm). I think it goes better with 'you will not', but the site I found it on used it for 'I will not', and I thought it could be fun to make Cross say a pun.


End file.
